Propositions
by giraffelove92
Summary: Elena has a proposition. A truce of sorts, one in which everyone wins - everyone except her. But perhaps the Mikaelsons aren't so bad after all - tolerable, at least, and maybe even likable - and Elijah turns out to be excellent company. And he's certainly easy to look at; as long as she's with them, she might as well enjoy some eye candy. Smut in later chapters. R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic with something of an actual plot *heart beats nervously* – it won't be anything too long or serious, but will delve a little more into the Original family dynamic and the depth of Elena's relationship with Elijah. I'll try not to rush it too much, but that is something I have difficulty with (I'm just impatient that way). So it'll be an experiment! **

**Disclaimer: if I owned TVD the Originals never would have left the show, and I would be lounging out by the pool at one of my multiple mansions around the world drinking a frozen margarita or a nice glass of good scotch – no ice.**

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"I have a proposition for you."

Elijah should have known better than to have opened the mansion door for her earlier, considering how tense things were between her and his family, but he had not been able to resist the sound of her thundering heartbeat and the lingering scent of her honeysuckle shampoo. His weakness for her, his desire to be near her, could be the cause of her death.

Now she sat across from him in the living room, tensely perched on the edge of the leather couch. Klaus sat next to him on the other sofa, while Kol lounged casually with one leg over the edge of an armchair. Rebekah had refused to sit, standing behind Kol with crossed arms and glaring at Elena with ill-concealed hatred. Elijah knew his little sister was itching to get her hands on the doppelganger.

Elijah himself had nearly wanted to kill Elena when he'd found out about her part in his mother's plot to kill her children. He'd been furious, and had acted reprehensibly towards her to save his family from their ultimate demise. He honestly hadn't expected to see her after leaving his letter in her bedroom, planning on leaving town immediately, and now he fidgeted under her soft brown gaze, feeling awkward in a way he hadn't been in years.

"What kind of a proposition?" Klaus asked slyly, cocking his head. "What can you possibly think you have to offer us, now that you almost succeeded in killing our family?"

She swallowed, folding her hands in her lap, but met the hybrid's stare unflinchingly. "If you're fishing for an apology, Klaus, you won't get it from me," she said haughtily, her voice dripping with acid. "I saw a way out of this mess _you_ have created in my town, and I took it. What's done is done."

Klaus growled. Elijah cleared his throat, quickly jumping in to do some damage control. "What exactly is it you're here to say, Elena?" he asked, gently but firmly. He kept all emotion out of his voice.

"I want you to leave," she said definitively, her head high. "All of you. Leave Mystic Falls and its inhabitants in peace, and never come back."

Klaus snorted. "That's quite a demand, little doppelganger. I don't see that happening. You live here, remember? I can't very well leave my secret ingredient behind." He smirked.

"I wasn't finished," she snapped irately, her eyes flashing. "So for once in your miserable existence, shut up," she spat vehemently.

Kol laughed gleefully. Rebekah bared her teeth. The smirk fell from Klaus's face, and he glared at her threateningly.

Elijah held up a hand, signaling his siblings to be still. "Please, continue," he said to her, fighting his own amusement.

She took a deep breath and exhaled through her nostrils. Her heartbeat had calmed down a tad, thumping steadily within her chest.

"If you were to leave and never come back," she said quietly, "I would go with you."

Silence reigned. It had been a long time since anyone had shocked them, but here they sat, stunned, unable to even respond. Rebekah's mouth opened and closed like a fish, Kol's eyebrows disappeared into his hair, Klaus's blue eyes were wide and trained hotly on hers, and Elijah just stared at a spot on the carpet next to her shoe, his mind suddenly blank.

She cleared her throat, shifting restlessly on the couch. "Leave here immediately, and I will disappear with you. I will go wherever you go, travel around the world with you as you see fit. And," she added pointedly to Klaus, wringing her hands, "I will willingly let you draw one vial of my blood once a month, and not a _drop_ more…for the next five years."

Klaus was speechless. Elijah's eyes snapped to hers – she was staring back at him. She looked dejected, forlorn…but resolved. He hated the sadness he saw in her eyes, hated the weight that settled on her shoulders; he hated that she was giving up. And he hated that he was partially to blame.

"I would expect you to protect me from harm, of course – I would be your ward, essentially," she continued, her voice level and calm. "I would also expect you to treat me with kindness and respect. I will not be your prisoner, I will not be your pet, and I will _not_ be your blood bag. You will never refer to me as 'doppelganger' and always call me by my given name. The blood you receive from me will be freely given; a donation, if you will. And you _will_ remain within the parameters I set." Her eyes were narrowed, fixed on Klaus. "I'll require you to sign a written agreement, binding you magically to your word. I may not be able to kill you," she said quietly, her voice full of poison, "but I sure as hell can make you suffer."

Klaus swallowed, looking almost nervous. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on the backs of his folded hands.

Elijah regarded her with a newfound respect. He had always held Elena in high esteem, her compassionate nature and regard for human life appealing to his innate sense of honor; they also had similar values when it came to family. But now he truly saw her strength, her steely determination. She was tougher than he had originally thought. This was not a girl to be underestimated, coddled and treated with kid gloves, but rather one to be admired and respected. He hadn't realized, until now, just how rigid her backbone was; she would never break.

She hadn't given up, he decided – she'd merely given in. There was a difference.

"Why?" Kol piped up, more curious than anything.

"Why does it matter why?" she countered impatiently. "I'm offering a truce. I'm giving you everything you want on a silver platter. No more annoying Mystic Falls residents throwing a wrench in your plans at every turn; the ability to build your army of hybrids or whatever." The way she said it, with her hands posturing, made the whole idea sound ridiculous; Klaus frowned, irritated that his dream had just been made light of. "You will have me, and Mystic Falls will be free of you. Everybody wins."

"Everybody except you," Elijah murmured, staring at her.

Klaus leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Precisely. I have a hard time believing that you would give up everything just like that to jaunt off around the world with us for five years."

She sighed. She smiled at his half-brother gently, but it was only a parody of a smile, tight and bitter, and it did not reach her eyes.

"You're both wrong," she said softly, sadly. "If I were to stay here, this war between us would continue to rage. If leaving everything behind means that this will stop, then I will go gladly. You see Klaus, if I don't give up everything, it will be taken from me anyway. People I care about would die for me; my existence brought you to this place, and I would be responsible for their deaths. I would rather give my friends and family a chance to live."

She paused, shook her head. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices. This town and the people in it are everything to me. So yes, if I have to give it all up and never look back in order for them to be safe, I will. So, in a way, I _do_ win."

"How selfless of you," Rebekah drawled nastily.

"Actually, it's rather self-serving," Elena responded bluntly. "I suppose my own selfish desire is to see the people I love thrive and grow old and experience life to the fullest; that would make me happy. So my selflessness is a result of my selfishness."

When she lifted her head to look at the blond Original, her eyes were filled with anger and hatred; the fire in them belied her neutral face. Gone was any trace of compassion. It made Rebekah shift uncomfortably, unfamiliar with the expression in Elena's eyes.

"But like I said," Elena drawled, equally nastily, "I wouldn't expect you to understand. You've forgotten what it's like to put someone else before yourself – that is if you ever knew it to begin with."

Rebekah hissed and launched herself at the girl, fangs bared. Elena didn't even blink, merely sat calmly on the couch as Elijah intercepted his sister and flung her across the room. She crashed into a wall and knocked down a painting, but was immediately up again, glaring at Elijah vituperatively. She grabbed a side table and ripped the leg off, brandishing the stake towards her eldest present brother, growling threateningly.

"Think twice about what you intend to do with that, Rebekah," he warned quietly, cracking his knuckles, his eyes challenging. "I think we both know how that would play out."

"Enough, sister!" Klaus barked sharply. "You know better than to challenge our brother. It won't end well for you. Now sit," he commanded, gesturing to the chair at the end of his sofa.

She sent one last glare Elena's way and then huffed childishly, dropping the make-shift stake and plopping herself down into the armchair. She crossed her arms and her face contorted into something that looked suspiciously like a pout. Elijah thought then about how immature she really was – she had never aged a day past seventeen, he realized. Elena, with a fraction of their time here on earth, was far more mature than his spoiled sister.

He sat down again, brushing away imaginary dirt on his pants. "Alright, Elena. Say we agree to this little…arrangement you've come up with. What happens after five years?"

She cocked her head, meeting his stare. Brown clashed with brown. "You kill me."

"Kill you?" asked Klaus skeptically, exasperated. "Why on earth would you want that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she countered harshly. "If you kill me or turn me, I cannot bear children. The Petrova line will end with me, and I can rest knowing that no descendant of mine will ever fall prey to your schemes, ever have to go through what I have been through." Her voice was but a whisper now, full of passion. Her eyes narrowed on Klaus. "There will never be another doppelganger. That curse ends with me."

They were all dumbfounded, unsure of how to respond. She saved them the trouble.

"Think about it," she said flatly, standing and grabbing her keys from the coffee table. "You have 24 hours. After that, my offer is null and void, and death and destruction are sure to follow; and believe me, we'll give as good as we get," she snarled. "Who knows: maybe I'll be killed in the crossfire…and then I won't have any blood left to give."

She smiled wanly and raised an eyebrow, smoothing her dress down her thighs; then she turned her back on them and walked to the door.

Her hand turned the knob, and Klaus spoke.

"Elena."

She paused, turned to look at him.

"Pack your bags."

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**First chapter down – more to come soon. There will be a little Elena/Elijah interaction starting in the next chapter. No smut or anything – I'm **_**trying**_** to take this slower, though I can't make any promises – but just a little hint of the deep emotional connection between them and of the intense relationship they will eventually have with each other.**

**Read and review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**So Elena has once again played the hero, offering herself up to Klaus like a sacrificial lamb (her martyr complex is a bit annoying, isn't it?). In TVD she has a backbone, but she rarely gets to make her own decisions, constantly overridden by those pesky Salvatores (props for trying to protect her, but come on, guys, let the poor girl think for herself), so you only get a hint of the strength she possesses. So I decided to play on that, giving her some independence. I don't think this idea is too out of character for her. Let me know what you think, whether you disagree/agree, like it/don't like it, etc.**

**Thanks for all the reviews on the first chapter!**

**Now for a little Elejah interaction. **

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_Dear Damon,_

…Elena stopped, her eyes welling with tears. She had not let herself cry over the past few hours; she'd come straight home from the Mikaelson mansion and had immediately gone upstairs and shut herself in her room, locking the door, to begin writing her letters.

Somehow her letter to Damon proved to be the hardest to write. She knew what she had to say to Jeremy, to Caroline, to Bonnie, to Alaric, to Matt; even Stefan's was easy, words flowing from her pen like water. But the issue of what message to leave the eldest Salvatore weighed on her mind more than the others. Perhaps it was because her relationship with him was the hardest to define.

She left the piece of paper on her vanity, which she was using as a desk, and went to take a shower. She let her mind go blank as the water washed over her, washing away any doubts and firming her resolve.

This had to be done.

Stepping from the shower she towel-dried her body and hair and wrapped the fluffy white towel around her, tucking in the top to secure it. She opened the door to her bedroom and stepped out, steam escaping; she imagined she was that steam, rising into the air effortlessly before evaporating into nothing.

She froze. The window was open and Elijah sat on the foot of her bed, elbows resting on his knees and chin propped on his folded hands. He wore no tie, she noticed, and noted the small white scar that adorned the hollow between his collarbones. She saw something flash across his dark eyes when he took in her apparel, or lack thereof, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. She expected him to look away, but to her surprise he did not, only cleared his throat softly.

"Hi."

She could think of nothing else to say. She did not have the energy to string a sentence together.

"Hi," he replied gently. He cleared his throat again, obviously at a loss for words. "I, uh, I came to see how you were doing."

It was the first time she had seen Elijah hesitate between words. He seemed so unsure of himself. Her eyes flickered to the letter that sat apart from those she had written to her friends, still open on her desk.

_Carry it with you, as I will carry my regret._

She sat down at her vanity and picked it up, clutching it in her trembling hands, before re-folding it and sticking it in between the pages of her diary.

"I'm fine," she replied, trying to keep her tone light. "But thank you." She met his eyes through the mirror and tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace.

He said nothing, merely sat there, staring at her. She picked up her hairbrush and began combing through her damp hair. She stared at the bags under her eyes, captivated by the wan pallor of her usually bright olive skin. This was what stress did to her. Perhaps, now that she was going away and ensuring the safety of her friends and family, some of that stress would ease. Perhaps it would give her some relief. She was tired of living in constant fear and anxiety.

She hadn't realized how violently her hands had begun to tremble until she dropped her brush. It clattered to the floor. She stared at it.

A wretched sob tore through her body, taking her by surprise. Once it started, she could not make it stop – it was like a floodgate had been lifted, and her emotion washed over her like a tidal wave.

They were not the delicate tears that women shed in movies, accompanied by glistening eyes and a quivering chin; they were ugly, heaving sobs that racked her body with such force she had to wrap her arms around herself to keep from shaking apart. Tears leaked out of closed, squinted eyes and streaked down her face. She could taste the saltiness on her tongue, feel them slide down past her chin to her neck. But worst of all was the noise: try as she might, she could not stop the miserable cries that pushed up through her chest.

It was the sound of heartbreak.

Finally her weeping began to subside, tapering off into pitiful whimpers that sounded pathetic to her own ears. She swiped at her cheeks impatiently, willing the tears to stop.

She started as Elijah stood from the bed; she'd forgotten the handsome Original's presence up until then. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment. She had not intended for anyone to see her like this – him least of all.

He shed his suit jacket, laying it neatly on her bed, then grabbed a box of tissues from her nightstand and strode over to stand behind her, setting it gently on the vanity in front of her.

It was a small act of kindness, seemingly inconsequential…but he would never know how grateful she was for it in that moment, how much comfort it brought her.

When she was finished dabbing at her tears and blowing her nose, he bent to pick up her hairbrush and, instead of giving it back to her, began to tenderly brush her hair.

She should have been resistant to this great invasion of the clearly defined boundaries between them, but the feel of his hands smoothing down her hair soothed her, and she found comfort and security in the closeness of his body. The backs of his hands brushed the nape of her neck and his knuckles skimmed over her ears as he continued to run the brush through her long dark hair. Her eyes closed of their own volition.

"So I assume 'fine' is code for 'an overwhelmed and emotional wreck'?"

A bubble of laughter rose in her chest and escaped, and the feeling had a fresh wave of tears falling from her eyes. She chuckled. She'd always heard there was a fine line between laughter and tears – now she was personally acquainted with it.

"Yes, I suppose it is," she replied shakily. He stilled and set the hairbrush down. His hands squeezed her shoulders. She met his eyes and her chin quivered. "I'm so sorry, Elijah."

It was a simple apology at face value, but it encompassed so much more; it was an apology for everything that had ever transpired between them. Every broken promise, every shaky truce, every botched negotiation, every betrayal…every emotion-filled look of longing, every brush of the shoulder, every suggestive comment made in jest, every shared connection. Every desire towards him she _wasn't_ supposed to have; every feeling that should have been reserved for someone else.

"Me, too," he replied gently, his eyes soft and full of understanding when they met hers. Nothing else needed to be said. His thumbs ghosted over the backs of her shoulders. His hands were so large compared to her, and they dwarfed her slim shoulders.

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps your letter to Mr. Salvatore can wait until morning?" he pressed.

"Yes, perhaps it should," she sighed, her eyes downcast. "I'm so…tired."

His hands squeezed her shoulders again. This time, partially out from under the thumb of her grief, she felt butterflies jump around in her stomach. She couldn't help but be aware of how close he was: the back of her head brushed against his taut stomach and his hands were warm against her skin. She thought she saw that mysterious flash in his eyes again – an emotion she could not place – but it was gone in the next moment, and they were back to their cool, steady brown.

"I can't imagine why," he said with a teasing smirk. She smiled back; this time it did reach her eyes, if only a little.

He pulled the chair back for her and she stood, immediately moving towards her bed. She was so emotionally exhausted that she did not bother with pajamas, merely pulled the covers back and crawled into bed in her towel. If Elijah was surprised by this he did not show it – she supposed that very little surprised him, after a thousand years – and he slipped his suit jacket back on, stepped over to turn off her lamp, and walked quietly to the window.

"Goodnight, Elena," he whispered into the darkness. "I'll be back at noon tomorrow to pick you up."

"Okay," she mumbled, already half asleep. "Elijah?"

He hesitated. "Yes, sweet Elena?"

"Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

She wasn't sure what had possessed her to ask, but his presence was so warm, so comforting, and she wanted to drift off into dreamland with that feeling surrounding her.

She heard the _snick_ of the window being locked, heard him sit on the window seat. She turned over to see him close the curtains and settle forward with his elbows on his knees. She could only make out his outline, his form cast in shadow; it suited him – he was a creature of the night, after all. He did not say a word; his silence spoke volumes.

She smiled into her pillow and drifted off to sleep, the weight of the world, at least temporarily, lifting from her shoulders.

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He was not there when she woke, but a single daffodil lay in the sunlight on her window seat. There was no way he could have known daffodils were her favorite flowers, of course – they were simply everywhere this time of year, including in her neighbor's front yard – but it made her heart leap all the same.

She smiled, brought it to her nose, and then pressed it into the pages of her diary.

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**Short chapter, I know, and not very fulfilling, but writer's block has been sort of crampin' my style lately. I felt like I needed to add a taste of the reality of Elena's situation and the grief she must be facing – her life really just sort of **_**sucks**_** right now, to be honest. Who wouldn't want to break down and cry a little?**

**I also wanted to set up base camp, so to speak, in the relationship between the two of them, before she leaves Mystic Falls and goes jaunting across the world with the Original Disfunctional Family. You can definitely sense the romance there – I feel like Elena and Elijah have never been just "friends" or "allies," even on the show; there is always this tense energy between them and she seems to bring out long-dead emotions in him – but it's still overshadowed by the stress of their situation and the loss she's experiencing. **

**Plus, this isn't one of those fics where she just completely forgets about Stefan and Damon…let's be real, they were a huge part of her life for a while, and she still loves them very much. So while this thing with Elijah is definitely stirring, she isn't just going to jump into bed with him and live happily ever after. That's not generally how life works. Although it would be nice, wouldn't it?**

**If I had the chance to get Elijah Mikaelson a.k.a. Daniel Gillies into my bed, I wouldn't hesitate…but we all know that Elena Gilbert has some issues and makes some whacko decisions. Eventually she'll see the light. ;) **

**Alllllllrighty then! Onwards we go!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow! I am so excited about all the reviews I'm getting on this! I really never expected it to be such a hit. I'll try not to disappoint, but keep communicating with me and let me know what you think! Every little bit helps.**

**I'm still struggling with some writer's block, so my words aren't flowing as smoothly as they usually do, but bear with me. It'll pass.**

**Okey dokey, heeeerrre we go! :D**

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"Bite me."

The words were said acerbically but Elena realized too late whom exactly she was talking to. That phrase did not have the same meaning to a vampire as it did to a human – she had just made herself a target.

The second-youngest Original's grin was shark-like. She swallowed audibly. Elijah stiffened next to her, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

"Why Elena, darling," Kol said with a shit-eating grin. "Was that an invitation?" Veins made an appearance underneath his eyes.

A growl rumbled up from deep in Elijah's chest, a sound of warning. His youngest brother chuckled.

"Relax, brother. I already signed the stupid agreement," he said distastefully, frowning. His face returned to normal.

Abby Bennett, unbeknownst to her daughter, had agreed to help Elena follow through with her plan. She'd made contact with her cousin Lucy, a witch from Washington D.C., who had agreed to meet Elena and the Originals in Richmond, which just so happened to be where the Mikaelson family jet was located. Elena had drawn up a contract and Lucy bound it magically, ensuring that whoever signed it would be forced to honor it or face dire consequences. Rebekah had been the hardest to convince, glaring at Elena all the while, but finally she caved, and six signatures, including Lucy's as the mediator, were signed in blood on the document, sealing the deal.

The contract included a great many things, among which was a guarantee that none of the Original siblings would harm her in any way. Elena had also promised a few things: she would never conspire against them, run away or attempt to sabotage them, and would never attempt to hurt herself in any way either. She could never make contact with any of her friends unless given express permission to do so, and it would be on Klaus's terms. (He seemed open to the idea of Caroline eventually visiting, a smile settling on his face at the mention of Elena's pretty blonde best friend. Figured.)

Lucy had included a cloaking spell for Elena and all of the Originals, guaranteeing that no one could find them via locator spell.

Elijah sighed. She was really going to do this. Part of him had thought she would balk at the last minute and run home to her friends and family, but she hadn't. She'd gotten in the car with him this morning without saying a word, the look on her face determined as she let him load her two suitcases into the trunk of his black Mercedes sedan.

She'd seemed relieved that it was only the two of them in his car on the trip to Richmond; his siblings rode together in another car. She hadn't cried at all – he sensed she had gotten all of the tears out of her system the night before – but he could see the sorrow in her eyes as he drove away from her family home.

Now they sat on the jet plane high in the air, flying over the Atlantic. Elena had napped for the first hour and he had draped his suit jacket across her slumped form when she shivered. Then she had awoken and Kol, who sat across from her, had immediately started taunting her about anything and everything he could think of. They had bickered for the better part of an hour, hurling barbed insults at each other over the table between them. Elijah sat next to Elena, hiding his amusement behind a newspaper.

That was where they found themselves now: Elena was now _wearing_ his jacket and the outside of her thigh had come to rest against his; when he pressed his leg further into hers, she did not pull away. His body was tense with a mixture of confusion and excitement. Was she doing that intentionally or was she just completely oblivious?

He had been positively giddy when she'd asked him to stay last night; unbeknownst to her he had stayed long after she'd fallen asleep. He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about her naked form wrapped in a towel more than once over the last few hours.

He laid a hand on her knee just below the hem of her dress. He'd done it casually, without thinking, and was surprised when her heartbeat began to thump wildly in her chest and her body heat skyrocketed. A pretty flush stained her cheeks, and she did not look at him.

_Interesting._

He leaned over close to her, unintentionally breathing in her scent; honeysuckle was tarnished with the beginnings of arousal. "Perhaps you should think before you speak next time? A little brain-to-mouth filter might be a good thing to work on while in our company," he murmured in her ear, his tone teasing.

If possible, she became even more flustered. She nodded. "I see your point. I suppose my choice of words wasn't exactly appropriate," she whispered back.

She shuddered as he withdrew his hand from her thigh, his fingers sliding over the soft skin. She immediately relaxed, but her heartbeat did not slow. He wasn't expecting this sort of physical reaction from her with just a simple touch. His youngest brother sent him a knowing look from across the table, dark eyes twinkling. He heard Rebekah snort in disgust from the front of the plane, and Niklaus was smiling into his book from across the aisle. It seemed all of his siblings were also aware of the fact that Elena was attracted to him. He was surprised when they all held their tongues, especially Kol; the youngest male Original never failed to exploit people's weaknesses when they were revealed. Elijah couldn't help but be suspicious – why would Kol not tease her about it? What did he have up his sleeve? His brother was not known for his tact and sensitivity.

"So, Elena…" Kol began again, slyly, "Do you play cards?"

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If you'd asked Elena an hour ago how she felt about the mischievous dark-eyed Original brother across from her, _gratitude_ would not have been among the list of emotions she described. But now she was glad to have his unceasingly annoying attention directed towards her; sparring verbally with him was not only slightly enjoyable (he was charming and witty and highly entertaining, she would grant him that) but it also served as a distraction from his older brother.

Playing cards (they were currently on their fourth game of gin rummy; he had won two and she one) gave her an excuse to keep her eyes off of the handsome vampire next to her. She enjoyed the feel of his leg pressing unrelenting against hers, enjoyed the warmth of his body so close to hers. She still wore his jacket, which smelled like…sandalwood, bergamot, citrus and something sinful that she couldn't quite place. It was a scent that clouded her senses, and try as she might she could not stop from inhaling it greedily through her nostrils.

She could still feel his hand on her thigh. His palm and the pads of his fingers had been heavily callused, probably from hard labor and the handling of a sword in his days as a human. His hand had dwarfed her leg; it served to remind her just how fragile she was compared to him, how small. Her skin still tingled from the contact. She'd been unable to look at him, afraid he would see the desire in her eyes. She was certain he could sense her attraction to him anyway; her heart had leapt when he touched her, and who knew what other things his vampire senses could pick up on. Her body felt like it was on fire, and she was surprised if he did not feel it.

Guilt overwhelmed her. Not even four hours away from home and she was lusting after one of the vampires she should rightfully hate.

But no: she could never hate Elijah. Every time she tried to blame him for something, she couldn't. Every time she wanted to be angry with him, all she could manage was a lame irritation that quickly faded in the face of her fondness for him.

She sighed inwardly. What was wrong with her? Why was she so soft? She was even starting to take a shine to Kol, who before now she had known to be a maniacal, cruel vampire with a taste for violence and a special talent for inflicting pain. Now he was managing to make her laugh.

If Damon could see her now…she couldn't even imagine the look on his face.

_Damon._ The thought of the eldest Salvatore brother had her sobering up quickly. What would he think? What was he doing right now? Jeremy and Alaric would be home from school by now, and had undoubtedly found her letters. She wished she knew what they were doing. She wished she could talk to them. After writing down important contact information she had left her phone at home for precisely that reason – she didn't want to have to look at their names pop up on her cell phone screen as they attempted to call her again and again. Would Stefan even care that she was gone? Would her absence affect him at all?

She would think about these things later…right now everything was still too fresh and too sensitive.

"Gin."

She smirked triumphantly. Kol scowled, inspecting the cards she'd laid down on the table.

"Impossible."

"Obviously not, little brother," Elijah drawled, never taking his eyes off of his newspaper. He was reading the comics now, Elena noted with some amusement. "I believe the lovely Elena beat you fair and square."

Kol growled, displeased. Elena was blushing at Elijah's use of the words "lovely Elena," heat flushing her face. Ugh, what was up with her? Get a grip, Elena!

"Fine. Now we're tied," Kol grumbled. He impatiently gathered up all the cards and shoved them back into their box. "I'm tired. I'm going to go take a nap."

Elijah chuckled as his brother stood huffily and retreated to the back of the plane, where he promptly stretched out on one of the cots that lined the sides.

"There is a bedroom in the far back of the plane, Elena," Elijah said. "It might be good for you to get some sleep. Jet lag will not be kind to you when we land in Europe."

His eyes were boring into hers. She found herself unable to look away. Now that Kol was gone she was more or less alone with him. She was more in danger than ever before of losing herself in him. She could not slow the wild beating of her heart. She knew he could hear it; he was too gentlemanly to say anything about it, but something dark glittered in his brown eyes that told her he knew _exactly_ what she was feeling. She swallowed.

"Oh, um, yes," she replied lamely, licking her lips. He followed the movement with his eyes. "That's probably a good idea. How long until we land?" she asked. He stood up and offered her a hand to help her from her seat. She took it. He pulled her to her feet, steadying her with his other hand on her shoulder, letting it slide down her arm slowly. She trembled when his thumb brushed over her knuckles, rough against the delicate skin of her hand.

"Six hours." His voice was low and hoarse. His gaze smoldered with a heat that she had never seen in him before. Was he…? No. It couldn't be…

Was he trying to _seduce _her?

Definitely not, she decided. This was _Elijah._ He cared for her and was a complete gentleman and these little looks and touches he was giving her were unintentional and entirely innocent.

She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. Her heart was hammering rapidly beneath her ribcage.

He led her to the back of the plane, never letting go of her hand. She found that she didn't mind so much.

The room in the back of the plane was small and simple, sporting a double bed and a tiny bedside table. Elijah gestured to the bed.

"It's not wildly comfortable, but it'll give you some privacy and space to rest. I'll wake you when we land," he said quietly. He gave her a tight-lipped smile.

She returned his smile. "Thank you, Elijah. I really appreciate everything you're doing to make this a little easier on me."

"Is it working?" he asked.

"Yes, actually," she responded sincerely. "It's not the nightmare I thought it would be."

He brought her hand to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the backs of her knuckles. "It will get better, Elena," he said, squeezing her fingers. "It'll take some time and a lot of patience with my siblings and I, but you will eventually adjust. You might even find that we're not that bad," he teased. His smirk had her stomach in knots. His eyes promised pleasures that she was more than appropriately curious about.

Maybe he _was_ trying to seduce her.

She nodded, giving him a soft smile. "I think I've already discovered that."

Smiling, he nodded and turned from her, exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

She sighed in relief and flopped down on the bed. Climbing underneath the covers she turned onto her side to stare out the window. She couldn't see the sun, but vibrant shades of pink and yellow streaked the sky, painting the walls of the room in a kaleidoscope of colors. She watched as the atmosphere faded into purples and blues and stars made their appearance in the sky, glittering like diamonds.

A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another, and another. Closing her eyes, she cried herself to sleep, and did not dream.


	4. Chapter 4

**So the last chapter was pretty lame, and I'm sorry…like I said, writer's block. I just can't seem to get it together. But I'm just going to keep plugging along, because if I wait for my brain to catch up I might be waiting forever, and I just don't have that kind of patience. A toast: here's to mediocre writing!**

**A special thanks to siberia21, AuroraSpace, LysCat, electricsymphony, Elliesmeow and Amazing Death for your reviews on not only this story but all of my others as well. I appreciate your continuous support and your thoughts are helpful and encouraging. :) **

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Elena woke groggily, sunlight streaming through the window. She grumbled and sat up. Where was she?

Oh. Right.

Wait a minute.

She was in a bed, an actual bed, in an actual room, in an actual house. How had she gotten off the plane?

Ah…someone had carried her. She blushed. She was still in her dress from yesterday – thank _GOD_ no one had tried to change her into her pajamas. She still wore Elijah's suit jacket, which was now crumpled beyond recognition and no longer smelled so strongly of him. Her flats had been removed and placed at the foot of the bed.

And what a bed it was! A king sized, four-poster masterpiece with a canopy and sheer white curtains, covered in a white bedspread dotted throughout with pale silver blossoms. The sheets were navy blue and Egyptian cotton.

She hesitantly swung her legs out of bed and was pleasantly surprised to find a pair of purple slippers on the floor. Slipping her chilly feet into them, she parted the curtains.

She gasped. She had never seen such a beautiful room. The walls were a very pale bluish-grey, adorned with landscapes and floral paintings and photographs. The floors were sand-colored tile, and the bed sat upon a lovely geometric Turkish rug in shades of whites and browns and blues. An ornate, rustic hickory dresser sat against the far wall. In the corner there were doors to a walk in closet (which had already been filled with her things and more besides; oh, the _shoes!_) and a bathroom, which, upon inspection, was just as elegant as the bedroom, done in white marble and tile and accented with fluffy blue towels. Light streamed in through a skylight. She sky was a vivid blue; a jet streaked across it, disappearing behind a feathery white cloud.

There was a sitting area on the opposite side of the room (gee, this place was huge!) with a white loveseat and chair and a coffee table that sat underneath another skylight. Beyond it sat a floor-to-ceiling window covered with shimmering charcoal curtains. It beckoned to her.

Not a window, she discovered as she parted the curtains: a sliding glass door. Unlocking it, she tugged it open.

A breeze hit her face, the ocean air salty on her tongue. The sound of crashing waves greeted her ears. She stepped out onto the small balcony and gasped.

Clutching the rail, she took in one of the most breathtaking views she had ever had the privilege to behold. The water was calm and bright blue, flowing into sands as white as any she'd ever seen and crashing against steep rocky cliffs farther down the beach. She could make out the blur of an island on the horizon. The sea was riddled with sailboats and fishing boats, and people dotted the beach. A lone cruise ship sat farther out at sea.

A city lay sprawled around and below her. White buildings, some with blue roofs, were set in tiers on the steep cliffs above the beach. Directly below her sat a terrace with a sparkling infinity pool. Rebekah sat in one of the lounge chairs in a bikini.

"Finally decided to get your lazy arse out of bed, I see?" the youngest Original shouted up to her.

"I was dreading having to see your ugly mug when I woke up, so I slept as long as I could to put it off. Nevermind though – there isn't enough sleep in the world that could have prepared me for it," she shot back.

The blonde screamed in outrage. "I _HATE_ you!"

She put a hand over her heart. "Aw, Rebekah, I hate you too!" she said mock-sweetly.

"You two are _so_ sweet. Really, it's touching. I think the two of you are going to be _best_ friends."

The sight of a shirtless Kol had Elena's jaw wanting to drop to the floor. His abs and arms were _flawless._ She clenched her teeth. He grinned up at her cheekily, his hair mussed. "Honestly, I don't know how you girls aren't attached at the hip."

"Are the three of you quite finished with this childishness, or should I come back later when you've all decided to grow up?"

If a shirtless Kol had her jaw dropping, a shirtless Klaus had her almost drooling. He held a mimosa in his hand, and the other ran through his hair. His body was gorgeously pale and sculpted, and his curly hair shined like tarnished gold in the bright sun. He gave her a mocking salute. "Good morning, Elena. Sleep well?"

She couldn't tell if he was being genuinely polite, or if he was toying with her. With Klaus, she could never tell.

"Yes, thank you," she said stiffly. "Is that…is that a mimosa?" she asked somewhat shyly.

The handsome hybrid grinned. Ugh, he was beautiful, and she hated him for it. Why couldn't the evil bastard who'd ruined her life be hideous? It was harder to hate him when he flashed those charming dimples. "Right you are, Miss Gilbert. Perhaps you'd like to join us and have one of your own?"

Well…if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

"I think I will, actually," she responded cheerily. "I just desperately need a shower first." She sniffed her hair.

Kol laughed. "Ah, yes, please do. We can smell you from here; positively horrid."

"Shut up," she muttered darkly. She stepped back off the balcony and shut the door behind her, instantly missing the lovely sea breeze.

She pulled open the top drawer of her dresser. Her underwear and bras sat neatly arranged in rows.

A knock sounded at the door. Curiously, she opened it.

A petite, dark-skinned young woman stood on the other side, her hair tied back in a long braid that fell almost to her waist. She wore a knee-length white wrap dress with pockets and white Keds. Tiny lapis-lazuli earrings pierced her lobes. She was quite stunning, really, with smooth olive skin and dark liquid eyes.

"Hello," Elena said cautiously.

"Hello," she returned politely, somewhat shy. Her accent was thick. "I'm here to check on you, to make sure everything is to your liking."

"Everything is beautiful, thank you," she replied sincerely. "Did you…were you the one to put all of my things away?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you. I'm Elena," she said kindly, sticking out her hand. The girl looked at it for a second, surprised, and then hesitantly took it. "And what's your name?"

"Gaia."

Elena smiled. "Greek Goddess of the Earth. That's a lovely name."

The young woman beamed at her, instantly at ease. "Thank you very much. You know some Greek?"

"I've studied a little bit of Greek mythology in my free time. Is that where we are: Greece?" she asked excitedly.

"Welcome to Mykonos," she answered, inclining her head.

"Mykonos," Elena breathed. "Wow."

"If you don't mind, I will come in and make the bed, yes? Or I could come back later," Gaia offered.

"No, no, come in," she replied, stepping aside. "I was just about to take a shower."

"Good; I stocked the drawers with bath products. If there is anything else you require, please allow for me to get them for you." She handed Elena a small remote. "Just press the button here at any time, and I will be here shortly. Anything you need, I am happy to do for you."

"Thank you, Gaia," Elena said graciously.

"Yes, ma'am. I will be gone by the time you are out of the shower," the lovely Grecian replied. "I hope everything is to your liking."

Elena nodded and went into the bathroom. Going through the drawers, she selected a number of products that she liked and stocked the shower with them. Stripping down, she stepped through the glass door and closed it behind her.

The shower was enormous. There was a _plant_ in the corner, and a large ledge on which to sit. When she turned it on water streamed from multiple showerheads and warmed instantly.

Standing under the spray, she allowed herself to relax. Kneading shampoo into her hair, she thought about Mystic Falls.

She didn't cry this time – she considered that a small improvement. Her eyes were dry, but melancholy.

She recalled the times that she and Stefan had taken a shower together, lathering up each other's bodies until they made love against the shower wall. He'd whispered sweet words of love into her ear then, and had worshiped her body thoroughly for hours thereafter. That had been so long ago, though – it seemed like a lifetime had passed. Things had grown tense between them, even before Klaus took him away and unleashed the Ripper. And when he had returned to himself, he had not been the same. He became cold, distant. Damon stepped in to fill the gaping hole Stefan had left in her heart. He was a different person around her. He claimed once, in an emotion-filled moment, that she had made him better. She had never felt more loved than when she was with him. He would do anything for her – literally anything; he would probably kill infants without missing a beat if it meant keeping her out of danger – and that was a rare and profound sort of love that she had never experienced with anyone, including Stefan. Annoying, yes, but wonderful.

She missed them both.

She missed Caroline's laughter and optimism. My, how the girl had grown since becoming a vampire! The blonde had blossomed into a mature and confident young woman who was fun to be around and added a special energy to every situation.

She missed Bonnie's steadiness, missed the girl who was loyal and moral almost to a fault. Who tried in vain to put life into orderly little boxes until she realized that you could not apply justice to shades of grey; whose sense of right and wrong was impenetrable. She was prudent and uptight by nature, but her passion knew no limits. And yet she never gave up on Elena, and had not abandoned Caroline in her hatred of all things vampire. She too had grown into a fine young woman, learning to compromise and bend the rules a little bit for the sake of the people she loved.

Alaric. Alaric, who had lost so much, and yet remained solid and strong. He was Jeremy's rock and Elena's mentor. He was the closest thing they had to a parent after Jenna died, and he had stepped into the position without a backwards glance.

She thought of dear Matt, her Mattie, who loved so recklessly and without abandon. He reached out to those in need; only he could befriend someone like Rebekah, give her a shoulder to lean on. He passed no judgment on others. He so easily forgave and let any negativity roll off his back. He was so brave and so caring. He'd thrown himself into situations time and time again, despite having no defense against the supernatural.

And Jeremy, poor Jeremy, who was so alone – he was a survivor. In reality he may have been her cousin, but to her he was still her kid brother. He was the one to try to save a sparrow with a broken wing in the back yard when he was but five, and then had cried when it died in his hands. He'd once picked her flowers from the yard as a nine-year-old, putting them haphazardly in a vase next to her bed, when she'd come down with the flu. When he was a toddler he would draw terrible pictures with crayon and then run to give them to her, desperate for her approval. He had brought her breakfast in bed the morning after she broke her arm in a cheerleading contest. He'd held her in his arms for hours after Stefan threatened to drive off Wickery Bridge, and had never said a word to her regarding her budding relationship with Damon, even though she knew he didn't approve. At age 12 he planted a rose bush above where they'd buried the family dog, Pepper. It had been his idea to repaint her walls and get her a new bedspread when she was away for a week with her friends over the summer; she'd come home to a beautiful new room that was wholly _her._ Even when he was going through his surly drug-using phase after their parents died, he was tender with her. He was so sensitive and his heart was easily broken, but she didn't think he would ever become jaded – it just wasn't in his nature to be. Someday, when he found himself, he would thrive.

She hoped he would get on with his life and not be consumed with finding her and bringing her home. It would only lead to disappointment and heartbreak, and could possibly be dangerous for him. She knew though, deep down, that he and the Salvatores would search for her for years. She could only hope that Stefan and Damon could repair their relationship and become close as brothers once again. She would no longer be there to come between them.

Alaric would feel like he failed her and feel guilty for the rest of his life. Tyler would be furious that Klaus had won, in a way, yet again. Matt would go to college on a football scholarship and would be married with kids in Mystic Falls a few years later; but he would think of her every day, wondering what had become of her, wondering what he could have done differently. Bonnie would live in constant anger for years; she would go to college and move on with her life, but every spare minute would be spent researching ways to kill Original vampires.

Caroline was perhaps the only one who would understand. Elena had expressed this, in her letter to her blonde best friend, whom she felt had become her closest friend over the last couple of years since Caroline's transition. The perky blonde cheerleader would be devastated by the loss of her best friend, but she wouldn't let it get her down, and she would not waste her life obsessing over it. She would wait patiently in the hopes that Elena would contact her and that she would eventually get to see her again. Until that time came, she would live her life to the fullest – and live it for Elena, too.

Shaving her bikini line, she continued to muse. Elena thought that maybe she could convince Klaus to let her send postcards to the people she cared about. They would want to know that she was alive and well. Perhaps one day they could visit her, or she could visit them. She thought this unlikely, at least for a long while, but a girl can dream, right? She knew she would not see the Salvatores at all in the next five years; the thought made her heart ache. But maybe Matt and Caroline could come see her – Klaus was smitten with Caroline and Rebekah had taken a shine to Matt, of course, so she might be able to convince them. Plus, Caroline and Matt were the least likely to cause trouble; they could visit her in secret.

She winced as she nicked her ankle with her razor. Ugh. She _hated_ shaving. Maybe the Mikaelsons would splurge (Lord knows they had the money) and let her get laser hair removal. She snorted. She couldn't imagine the looks on their faces at the request.

After she'd rinsed all of the conditioner out of her hair and washed her face, she reluctantly turned off the shower and stepped out. The tile floors were heated, she discovered, and as she grabbed a towel she found that the towel racks were heated as well. She moaned in pleasure, wrapping the fluffy blue towel around her and using another to dry her hair. Never had she experienced such luxury.

She could get used to this, she decided.

Another thing she could get used to: half-naked Originals. And mimosas by the pool. And the smell of the ocean. And a king-sized bed. And _Elijah_ – oh, she could definitely get used to Elijah. She wondered belatedly if he even _owned_ a pair of swim trunks.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

Grabbing a bottle of aerosol tanning oil from the bathroom, she sprayed it all over her body and rubbed it in. She took a moment to bless her olive complexion – she would adjust to the Greek sun quite well, she thought. Then she brushed her teeth. She didn't bother with drying her hair, merely flipped it upside down and shook it out, but she did put on a little bit of makeup and ran some of that Garnier Fructis Sleek & Shine through her dark tresses, delighting in the delicious citrusy scent. Then she threw on her neon pink string bikini (the color contrasted well with her skin tone and made her look tanner than she actually was; and thank God for push-up padding) and a sheer white drawstring-waist cover-up (it took her a while to locate these things in the sea of clothes in her closet and dresser), stepped into her favorite, well-worn leather flip-flops, grabbed her bright yellow Ray-Ban sunglasses, and stepped bravely out into the unknown.

The hallway was bright white and lined with various wall hangings. She made her way down floating stairs and arrived in a lovely, well lit living room that flowed into a sleek modern kitchen and dining area. A wall of windows allowed a view of the terrace and beyond, and the sliding glass door off to the side was left open, allowing a gentle breeze through.

"Yes, I'm looking at it right now. And I expect it to be fixed promptly."

The voice was smooth, dangerous. A predatory purr that would have any sane person with a shred of sense quivering in fear. She shuddered.

Elijah sat on a stool at the kitchen island with his back to her, one hand holding a cell phone to his ear and the other scrolling down a page on his laptop. He was barefoot, shirtless, and _wet._

His back was spectacular. Muscles flexed as he reached up to run a hand through damp hair. His shoulders were impossibly wide and lightly tanned skin stretched taut across sinewy muscles in his back. Droplets of water clung to his skin, and his swim trunks dripped onto the tile floor of the kitchen.

"Call me when it's taken care of," he continued.

He hung up and swiveled the stool around at her approach. He smiled at her – a full grin, with teeth and everything – and she realized she had never seen him like this, with his walls down. He seemed…relaxed. He had a stunning smile; it transformed his face dramatically. She found herself smiling back.

"Sorry – business. Good morning, Elena. Welcome to Greece," he said jovially, spreading his arms wide. It made her remember that he was shirtless and, as he hopped off the stool, she couldn't help but stare.

Perfection. As good-looking as Kol and Klaus were, they couldn't hold a candle to their older brother. His body was broad and well defined. She was fascinated with the muscles of his chest and arms, which flexed subtly every time he shifted. A smattering of fine hair dusted his chest and the trail below his naval, but was so sun-bleached that you could barely see it. His shoulders were simply divine – she was a sucker for good shoulders. He had a tattoo on his right pectoral muscle, above the nipple: it was a symbol that looked almost like an asterisk but with little boxes and brackets and squiggles at the end of each arm. She thought she had seen it before, but she couldn't remember where.

But the fact remained: Elijah. Had. A. Tattoo. And he was in _swim trunks_…and he was _grinning…_the Elijah she knew did not _grin._ And the Elijah she knew did not have _tattoos_, or wear anything but suits. She had never even seen him in a pair of _jeans_, for goodness sake! The leap from a suit and tie to a pair of navy board shorts was extreme, and she couldn't quite wrap her head around it. The Elijah she had come to know, the man who she'd fit into a tidy little box, was being blown out of the water by this…this…imposter.

He was too attractive. He was too sexy. Where was the formal, elegant, sometimes-stuffy Elijah Mikaelson she had gotten used to?

Now she would have to start all over.

His eyes ran over her form so briefly she thought she'd imagined it, but then he did it again a moment later and his perusal of her body had her shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Her "cover-up" didn't really cover up anything, since it was white and mostly sheer and barely reached mid-thigh. Her bikini shone through it like a beacon.

He cleared his throat. "It's nearly eleven-thirty, but would you like some breakfast?"

She blushed. She'd slept waaaay too late. "Um, yes, if it wouldn't be too much trouble…a bowl of cereal would be great, thanks," she said awkwardly.

Elijah immediately got out the cereal and milk and poured them in a bowl. While his eyes were elsewhere she took the opportunity to overtly stare at his body. Ugh. So she was stuck with three extremely attractive guys (that was putting it mildly), forced to look upon their ridiculous beauty, everyday for the next five years. Just peachy.

God's sense of humor was downright _malicious._

Well, if she was going to be spending all of her time with them, she might as well enjoy the eye candy.

She nodded in thanks and scarfed down the cereal – she hadn't realized how hungry she was until the first spoonful hit her stomach.

Klaus walked through the glass door just as she was pushing the bowl away. "Elijah, where are your manners?" he called playfully. "Aren't you going to offer our lovely human companion something to drink?" He winked at her, and she blushed.

"Quite right, Niklaus. Elena," Elijah asked, "would you like a beverage?"

The way he used the word "beverage" – there was her proper Elijah! – had her almost giggling. "Yes, of course. That mimosa looked heavenly. Might I trouble you to make me one?" she said, the polite and proper words delivered teasingly. She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

Oh my God. She was flirting with him, she realized. She was flirting with Elijah Mikaelson, scary Original vampire extraordinaire.

He smirked at her and bowed. "Why of course, milady. I'm happy to oblige."

And he was flirting _back._

Oh Lord. What was the world coming to? She hadn't even been away from home a full day and she was already settling in to an easy banter with the eldest remaining Original.

She smiled and turned away to rinse her cereal bowl and put it in the dishwasher.

"We have a maid for that, love."

It was said right next to her ear, and she jumped in surprise at the proximity of Klaus's body to hers.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," she snapped. "And I know, I met Gaia earlier, but I don't need an excuse to be lazy. I am more than capable of cleaning up after myself, especially something as simple as putting my dishes in the dishwasher."

He held his hands up in surrender, smirking. "As you wish, love. Will you join us out by the pool?"

She smiled. "I think I could be convinced."

She felt guilty for the ease with which she spoke to him, after everything he'd done to her and her hometown. There was still an underlying strain to their interactions, but she was quickly becoming used to being in his presence. Still, she had the urge to flinch whenever he moved. Her fear of him had not abated, even with the contract they had agreed on and his cordiality towards her. It would be a hard mold to break.

Her heart leapt into her throat when his hand settled on her lower back and he led her outside.

"Relax, sweetheart," he murmured into her ear, "I think we've established that I harbor no ill will towards you." He smirked and his eyes glittered with something unfamiliar. "Although making you uncomfortable is rather satisfying – you look ravishing when you get all flustered like that."

"Oh Nik, you could do so much better," Rebekah whined from her position on a long chair. She glared at Elena. Elena glared back.

"I don't know, sister; it doesn't get much better than that," Kol said from the pool, gesturing at Elena and unabashedly studying her body underneath her cover-up. She swallowed, embarrassed by the inspection.

Elijah came out behind them, and she sighed in relief. He was the only one of the Mikaelsons that did not make her feel uneasy. He made her feel uncomfortable in a different way – yes, she admitted reluctantly to herself, he was attractive and she had always sort of had a _thing_ for him, whether she liked it or not – with his heated looks and soft touches and sincere words; he made her heart beat fast and her body tingle. Even the slapping off of heads and the tearing out of hearts were endearing in their own way – okay, that might be stretching it a little bit, but he did exude power and masculinity when he was ruthless like that. The general BAMF vibe he gave off was somehow ten times better than either of his brothers, even the big bad hybrid, and it was sort of hot, to be honest.

Okay, _really_ hot. He was just _really_ _HOT_. And she was in trouble…because all she wanted to do at that given moment was thread her fingers through his damp hair and run her tongue over every inch of his delectable body.

She accepted the fluted glass and the yellow-and-blue striped beach towel he handed her. "Thank you, Elijah." She took a long sip of her mimosa and smacked her lips in satisfaction. Fresh squeezed orange juice, she was sure of it, and some damn fine champagne to match.

"Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I'm going to find myself a spot in the sun, as far away from any blonde females as I can get, and relax." She smiled, pulled her sunglasses down to cover her eyes, and stalked away from them.

She heard Elijah chuckle, Kol snigger, and Klaus snort in amusement behind her. Rebekah's indignant squeal was music to her ears.

She was beginning to think things were going to be okay.

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Elijah spent the day alternately watching her and taking care of his businesses. He'd started out by watching her _while_ he was taking care of business, but found that she was too much of a distraction and he could not focus on his conversations over the phone.

Her body was put tantalizingly on display on one of the lounge chairs on the terrace. Some time ago she'd gotten in the pool, and water droplets clung to her lovely suntanned skin. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, natural golden highlights shimmering in the sunlight. She was currently swatting Kol's hands away as he offered to replenish her suntan lotion. He growled in jealousy, but smirked in satisfaction at her rebuffs of his youngest brother's advances.

And he was supposed to endure five _years_ of this?

Fat chance. He knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

Elena was undeniably attracted to him – to his brothers, too, but that was to be expected. They were an attractive family. However, her responses to him in particular were noticeably more potent. And she trusted him, against all odds; he marveled at how easily forgiving she was. Something told him she could be easily seduced. He would take his time with her, though, because she deserved it. Eventually she would share his bed, he decided – but he would be patient.

Elijah had always been a patient man. And he almost always got what he wanted.

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_Dear Jer,_

_By the time you read this, I will be long gone. I am so cowardly for not saying goodbye to you in person, but I knew that I would let you talk me out of going and I couldn't risk it._

_I made a deal with Klaus – with the entire Original family, actually. It was selfish of me, really, to leave you here alone, but I just couldn't bear the thought of anyone else being hurt because of me; least of all you. I hate to think of you and Alaric all alone, but I would rather you be alone without me than risk your death because of my presence in your life. _

_I know you understand – don't even pretend to be outraged – because I know you would do the same for me without a second thought. I have guaranteed that Klaus and his siblings will NEVER again set foot in Mystic Falls, and will leave all of the people I care about alone for the rest of their lives. _

_Live your life. Go to college. Fall in love. Be happy. You will see me again, I promise; I'll try to arrange for you to visit sometime, or I'll visit you, but if that doesn't pan out I will see you in five years – I swear on it. I'll write you letters every now and again, as Klaus permits, to let you know that I am alive and well._

_I know nothing I say will keep you from searching frantically for me. But I hope you don't waste too much time doing that. I don't think I have to tell you that you will never find me. The Mikaelsons are the wealthiest and most powerful family in the world. Their resources are endless. You will never find me. They have sworn to protect me in all things, even my own family and friends, and – I know you're going to think I'm stark-raving mad – I trust Elijah, despite everything that's happened. I know he will keep me safe and comfortable._

_Think of it as an opportunity; this is my chance to see the world! That's what I'm telling myself anyway, to make it bearable. Please Jer, please – don't spend the best years of your life pining away after me. I will be home before you know it. Five years isn't so long, after all._

_You have been the ultimate blessing in my life, Jeremy. You are my rock, my foundation, and I need you to continue to be that for me, even a thousand miles away. You are so strong. You are a survivor, Jer. Never forget that._

_I cannot tell you how much I love you; there aren't even words in the world to express my feelings for you, little brother. Think of me often, as I will think of you. Every day I will wish for your happiness._

_All my love and the best of luck,_

_Elena_

Jeremy read the letter for the twentieth time. He looked at the clock. Not quite five in the morning. He hadn't slept all night. Alaric had retreated to his room – Jeremy could sometimes hear a muffled sob through the wall.

He resisted the urge to crumple the paper in his fist, instead folding it and placing it back in its envelope.

He stared at the pile of letters on his desk – he would have to distribute them tomorrow. He didn't want to be around when Damon Salvatore opened his. He could only imagine the rage and thinly veiled heartbreak that would be unleashed. He hoped Damon didn't go off on another one of his killing sprees.

Elena. His precious Elena, the older sister he had always loved without abandon. The sister who had covered for him time and time again, always taking responsibility for his screw-ups – even when they were kids. She'd always helped him with his chores and looked over his schoolwork for him, editing mistakes and making suggestions to improve his grades. She had taken to packing his lunch for him after his mother died. She would sometimes leave little sticky notes around the house – on his doorknob, on the refrigerator, on the TV remote or the bathroom mirror – with smiley faces and "I love yous" that never failed to make him smile. She listened to his interests and asked him questions and they had deep, meaningful conversations about life and love and the world, and she had broadened his mind and taught him so many things. She made everything a little bit easier, made day-to-day life a little less of a chore. She was so compassionate, so forgiving, and optimistic to a fault. She loved so purely and selflessly.

She had sacrificed everything for him, for her friends, for her town. She had given up her life here for the people she cared about.

He could not dishonor that sacrifice. He would look for her for six months, put everything he had into finding her; and then he would let her go.

He would have to let her go.

He held his head in his hands, and wept.

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

**I've always wanted to go to Greece. I'll have to put Mykonos on my bucket list. **

**So tune in to the next chapter for a few more Elejah teasers…things start to heat up. I'm going to jump forward a couple of weeks, and then the chapter after that will be a few months later.**

**There won't be a **_**huge **_**amount of drama in this story – it'll mostly be a romance/family/friendship piece. Like I said, I'm starting slow with this whole multi-chapter fic thing. But there will be a little bit of danger; you'll just have to wait and see what happens! So many adventures to be had!**

**Read and review, my lovelies! *****She says in a very Klaus-like fashion***** (if only I had the dimples to go with it…)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Glad everyone liked chapter 4 – now on to chapter 5! Ugh, I am chomping at the bit to get Elena and Elijah together already, but I'm taking deep steady breaths and imagining that I have the patience of Elijah. If he can do it, so can I.**

**I intended this chapter to be **_**totally**_** different, but it sort of got away from me and morphed into…this. Whatever this is. **

**Enjoy! :) **

**000000000000000000000000000000000000**

_Dear Damon,_

Damon crumpled the paper in his fist, drained the rest of his scotch from its glass, and chucked said glass with all of his might into the wall.

"Damon!"

He whirled on his brother, who was far too calm. "What?!" he barked.

"Your temper tantrum isn't helping anything," Stefan replied. His face was impassive, but Damon could see the pain in his brother's green eyes. He could read his younger sibling like an open book by now.

"It's helping _me,"_ he said bitterly, staring into the fire.

Caroline sat next to Stefan on the couch. She said nothing, remaining completely silent, which was a first. Barbie always had something to say.

Damn Elena. What had she been thinking? _Five years?_ How could she do this to them – to him? She had abandoned him. She had abandoned her brother.

She'd given up. He'd failed her, and she'd given up.

He said as much aloud. "She just…gave _up._ How could she just give up?"

Caroline spoke, finally. "Elena's not a quitter, Damon. She just naturally has martyr tendencies. She did this for us."

"Well that's just bullshit! There were other ways to fix this! This was not her decision to make!" he shouted, pacing around the room.

"Then whose was it?" she replied, exasperated. "Yours? Mine? Have you ever considered that she felt like this was best for _her_ as well as for us? Not only has she taken the brunt of the consequences from the Originals, she's had to deal with constant Salvatore drama for the last two _years_ – did it ever occur to you that she got tired of it? Tired of you? For once think about someone other than yourself. This solution is hardly ideal for her – it's not like she was chomping at the bit to leave Mystic Falls and jaunt across the world with The Evil Hybrid. She has sacrificed everything for us, for this town. She couldn't bear to think of the devastation caused by this…_war…_that's been raging between the Originals and us. How many people have already died at the hands of Klaus? How many people would have died if she hadn't left? She feels responsible, Damon. She's the reason Klaus came to Mystic Falls in the first place, and while it would never even occur to us to blame her for anything, she blames herself."

Damon fumed. "She's lost her mind."

Caroline pursed her lips and Stefan rolled his eyes.

"Would you have done the same thing if Elena were in your place, Damon?" his brother asked.

"Not until I had exhausted every other possibility first!" he spat vehemently.

Caroline jumped to her feet unexpectedly, her fists clenched. "And that's the difference between you and Elena," she said, seething. "Elena didn't wait to exhaust every other option. She didn't wait until more people died protecting her and this town, trying every possible course of action until there was _nothing left._ She saw a way out of this mess, took an opportunity to end the destruction before innocent people got caught in the crossfire. You're selfish, Damon. And Elena doesn't have a selfish bone in her body." An angry tear slipped down her cheek.

Damon flopped down on the couch, rubbing his eyes. "I know, you're right. I am selfish – I've never denied that. I just can't…I don't…" He trailed off, at a loss for words. Emotion welled up within him and he felt tears prick the back of his eyes.

"You just don't know what to do," Stefan finished for him, his voice soft.

"And that's okay, Damon!" Caroline said passionately, sitting back down across from him. "It's okay not to know. The rest of us don't know either. But we'll figure it out."

Damon sighed in response, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent hot, salty tears from leaking out. Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it.

He felt like he'd lost a part of his soul. A chunk of his heart was missing. His love for Elena made his unhealthy obsession with Katherine look like child's play. He had never seen it before – he once thought he loved Katherine. She had been everything to him. And then Elena grabbed him by the heartstrings and ripped him away from the toxic memories with very little effort.

She had sucked the poison out of him. It was like he had a permanent tumor: the tumor would always be there, but when Elena was with him she stopped the cancer from spreading. Now that she wasn't here…

He was terrified of what he would become. She had tempered the monster in him, soothed the demon into submission. But without her, he was hopeless. Without her, he was broken.

"We have to get her back," he croaked.

"And we will," Stefan said softly. "It might not be on our terms, Damon, but we will get her back."

"In the meantime, you have to stay strong," Caroline added encouragingly. "We all do. I know your first instinct is to go off on a bender, Damon. But think about what Elena would want. Think about her reaction to the news that you went off on a killing spree because she left." She paused, letting the words sink in, and continued quietly. "And think about how _proud_ of you she'll be when she finds out how much you've accomplished in spite of her absence. You love her, don't you Damon?"

"Of course," he growled. What kind of a question was that? Stefan stiffened imperceptibly from his seat on the couch.

"And she loves you, doesn't she?"

_You've opened my eyes, Damon. You have challenged me in a way that no one else has before. You have played such a large part in making me who I am now. I know it sounds ludicrous, but I think you have made me better. _

_These past months have been brutal – for both of us. But you stepped up in a way I never expected. You were there when I needed you; you filled the hole in my heart. _

_You are reckless, and selfish, and insensitive. You have killed without care and have ruined lives without thought. You use people. You don't listen, and you act without considering the consequences or consulting others. You are positively infuriating. _

_But none of these things matter, in the end – because I love you, Damon. I love you, and have fallen IN love with you. You are on my mind every other moment. My head is consumed with thoughts of you. Try as I might, I cannot dislodge you from my brain. And believe me, I've tried so hard. I cannot express in words how much I care for you – and how much I long to be with you, wherever you are now, in this moment._

_I can't – I won't – promise my undying love for you; I can't promise to love you forever, and to wait for you so that we can be together after this is all over. I can't do that for Stefan, either. It will be years before I see either of you again, and I cannot live my life pining away for what will never be. You shouldn't either. I will always love the both of you with all my heart, but I can't be IN love with you forever. That sort of love will eat you alive from the inside out._

_In a way, you'll be free of me, as I will be free of you. Make the most of it, Damon. Repair your relationship with your brother. Have fun with him. Be brothers again. I'm afraid that the three of us were headed down the same road you went down with Katherine, and I don't want that. I don't want to be the sore that festers between siblings until there is no relationship left to salvage. And to be completely honest, I don't think I could ever choose between the two of you: my first love, who still has such a hold over me despite all he's done to ruin it, and the out of control brother that managed to sneak his way into my heart before I knew what hit me._

_You said to me once that I made you a better person. But a good person cannot simply be created from nothing – that goodness has always been there, and always will be, whether I am with you or not. I just helped you discover it. You have a light inside of you, Damon Salvatore. I can see it whenever I look into your eyes. And it is what you make it; it will only disappear if you allow it to. Please don't let that light wink out._

_I won't ask you not to look for me, because I know you'll simply ignore me. But don't let your disappointment eat at you forever, and please please PLEASE don't get hurt in the process. Years from now, when you look back, you will understand why I did what I did. I am guilty of being selfish too, Damon. I can't lose you. I can't lose my friends and family and hometown. I've lost you in the sense that we'll be separated for a long time, but at least I will know that you are alive somewhere and probably plaguing someone with your incessant snarky attitude. That thought will comfort me in the years to come. And it will make the next five years more bearable, because I'll know it was totally worth it._

_I've asked Abby's cousin, Lucy, to bring you a copy of the contract I agreed to with the Originals. It is bound magically, so I will be safe, I can assure you. I covered all the bases and made sure there are no loopholes. _

_I'm so sorry I never had the courage to tell you how I felt. I think I only just realized my feelings for you as I sat down to write this letter. I truly don't know whether or not we would have worked together…but I regret that we never even had a chance to try. I won't pretend like I don't still have feelings for Stefan. I love him too, Damon, and it's not fair to you – it's not fair to either of you. I cannot choose just one of you, and so I must choose neither of you._

_I hope you will forgive me for giving up so easily. And I'm sorry I was too cowardly to say goodbye to you in person, but I know you would have thrown me in the cellar – don't bother denying it – and I just couldn't have that. I saw a way out, and I took it. I would like to think you would do the same for me. Please respect the choice I've made, however foolish you think it may be. _

_I will never stop thinking of you. Five years isn't so long, in the life of a vampire. I'll be back before you know it. _

_All my love,_

_Elena_

He swallowed, still squeezing the letter tight within his fist. "Yes," he replied quietly, his voice raw.

Caroline smiled at him gently. He thought maybe it was the first genuine smile she had ever sent his way. It thawed the iciness of his heart, if only a little.

"I don't know what she put in your letter, but I _know_ how she felt about you – despite my efforts to change her mind," she teased lightly. "I know how she felt about both of you," she continued, looking at Stefan and then back to his older brother, "and I know that she would want you to respect her decision."

Her chin quivered, and her voice trembled. Her eyes filled with tears, but they did not fall. "I love her too, you know," she added, her voice thick. "And I've loved her a lot longer than either of you have. Remember that."

He noticed her red-rimmed eyes, her unwashed hair, and the fingernails that had been chewed down to the stubs. He hadn't been thinking about anyone but himself since he'd gotten the news, but he'd be a fool to think he was the only one affected by Elena's decision. Her brother and the friends she had known since birth had to have been devastated. Caroline was right. The love he had for Elena was absolute and strong, but they had been by her side for far longer.

He nodded in understanding. Stefan was staring blankly at the carpet, lost in a memory.

Damon cleared his throat. "So now what? What should we do? Where do we start?" He felt so lost.

Caroline stared resolutely into his eyes. "We start at the beginning. Together," she added, placing a hand on Stefan's knee.

His younger brother nodded, his eyes gleaming. "The beginning… Alright – let's do it."

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"What's your favorite color?"

Elijah turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "My what?"

"Your favorite color…you know," she said, waving a hand dramatically through the air while the other clutched an ice cream cone. "The color that invokes the most positive feelings in you."

He turned back towards the sea, leaning with his arms crossed against the railing of the boardwalk. A Grecian on a bicycle whizzed by.

"I don't have feelings," he replied deadpan. He tried to keep his face impassive, but couldn't help it when his lips quirked up at the corners.

Elena giggled. "Oh, my mistake," she jested. "I forgot for a moment about your big-bad-ruthless-Original-vampire status. Feelings are for sissy human girls."

"Precisely," he drawled lazily. "I'm so glad you understand."

"Come _on,_ Elijah," she wheedled, nudging him in the side with her elbow. "I _know_ you have a favorite color. Everyone has a favorite color. Yesterday when Klaus was painting he accidentally admitted that he liked red the best. If the evil hybrid can have a favorite color, so can you."

He smiled. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd smiled so much in such a short period of time. The lovely Elena Gilbert had only been in Greece with them for a week and a half, but she was like a breath of fresh air – to all of them. None of them had expected that her attitude would be so positive (usually; she had her moments, especially with his baby sister). Her presence somehow relieved the ever-present tension between his siblings, and they had lived together relatively peacefully for over a week without attempting to harm one another.

Somewhere, pigs were flying and angels were singing.

Rebekah was still intentionally nasty to Elena, and the doppelganger gave as good as she got; her responses to his sister's bitchiness were scathing. She had a sharp tongue. Another facet of the girl that surprised him, since she'd always seemed so soft when he'd interacted with her before she came away with them. She was smarter than he'd given her credit for.

Now she stood next to him, looking out onto the beach with an ice cream cone in hand. Raspberry gelato. He tried not to stare as she licked it. She was completely unaware of how sexy she looked doing that, and her obliviousness made her even sexier.

She was in her dark purple bikini – the one he'd discovered made her breasts look the most incredible – and her hair was loose around her shoulders, still damp and wavy from the salty ocean water. She had on her trademark yellow sunglasses and her favorite flip-flops (which looked like they were on the brink of death). Her skin had gotten dark very quickly under the hot Mediterranean sun, and he desired to trace every tan-line with his fingers. Her toenails were painted a bright coral color today – she painted her toenails a different shade every morning, one of the quirks he had noted with some amusement.

He shrugged, pondering her question. "I've never really thought about it before, actually. But I suppose I enjoy looking at the color green."

She smiled in satisfaction. "What shade of green?"

He sighed, his eyes scanning the horizon. "When I was a boy, my family lived in Norway for a time; it was where my mother was originally from before she moved to Eastern Europe," he said wistfully. "More than half the year it was cold and dark and unceasingly grey. But when spring finally did roll around, it was sudden and breathtaking. The color of the budding foliage of the trees and the brand new shoots of grass was this vivid light green that almost glittered in the sunlight. It never lasted long; within a fortnight it would darken down to the emerald shade that it sported all summer long. It was dazzling, that color, and to me it was even more beautiful for its short life." His words were nostalgic, and his mind wandered to the place of his youth. "I always looked forward to those first two weeks of spring, just so I could gaze upon that shade of green."

She was staring at him, and he shifted uncomfortably underneath her gaze. He could feel her eyes on him like little needle pricks against his skin, but could not see them behind her sunglasses. He had chosen to remain shirtless as well, for the sole purpose of driving her crazy. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the hungry glances she sent him over the past few days when she thought he wasn't looking.

She turned back to the sea. "That's lovely," she said softly. "Perhaps someday you can show me."

"Perhaps someday I will," he affirmed. "And what about you, sweet Elena? What is your favorite color?"

Pink tinged her cheeks. She had stopped blushing so profusely when he or one of his brothers complimented her or made an off-color remark, but she still would get spots of color high on her cheeks when he attached an adjective to her name like that. He did it often, just to see her react so.

"Yellow," she said, turning her head again to look at him with a shy smile on her face.

"What shade of yellow?" he mimicked.

She laughed and propped her sunglasses on top of her head, staring up at the sky. "A pale yellow. Like the color of butter, or sunshine, or…daffodils," she answered. "Daffodils are my favorite flower." She paused, experiencing some nostalgia of her own. "They were my Mom's favorite, too. She found new places to plant them every year. We had this neighbor," she continued pensively, "Mr. Lafitte. He was older than dirt, and just as stubborn. He'd sit on his porch for most of the day. He had a beautiful garden for years, but then he got sick. Colon cancer, I think. And so his garden sort of withered and died after a couple of years of neglect." She smiled, as if remembering a secret. "So one night in the spring Mom snuck over to his house while he was asleep. She planted fifty daffodil bulbs, already blooming, in his flowerbeds. Just covered the yard. And then she just…came back home, like it was nothing. After she got home, at like one in the morning, I ran over to his house in my pajamas – they were ridiculous pajamas, because I was like ten at the time – and cut a few of the daffodils from our yard and put them in a mason jar on his front porch rail, right next to his chair. And I watched the next day – it was a Sunday morning, because I was getting ready for church – from my window. He walked out the front door with his cane and his oxygen tank and just stopped there at the top of the stairs for a minute…and then walked to his chair and sat down as usual. And he plucked one of the flowers from the jar and sniffed it, and then just held it in his lap and closed his eyes."

She sighed, the reflective look fading from her eyes. "We would put fresh flowers of all kinds in his jar every few days for the rest of the summer. He never said anything, but I brought him a glass of lemonade once on a really hot day," she lifted her hand up, palm to the sky, and her eyes fluttered closed, "and he grabbed my hands and held them for a moment. He never said anything to me, but I remember that day so vividly."

She lowered her hands and opened her eyes. Elijah could not identify the emotion swirling in her eyes; it was one he had never seen before in her expressive gaze. "He died that September. After my parents passed away I would go visit them at the cemetery and put out some flowers on their graves, and I made a habit of putting some on his grave, too. It just seemed like the right thing to do," she shrugged, smiling slightly. She took a bite out of her ice cream cone, nearly finished with it.

She had never been more beautiful to him than she was in that moment, and, he would discover years later looking back, she would never be more beautiful in the future than she was in that moment, either. She had an aura around her, a light that practically burst through her skin. It was positively _infectious, _more contagious than the worst strain of the Ebola virus, and no one was immune. Not his siblings, not he, not anyone.

"It just seemed like the right thing to do." He repeated her words, both incredulous and in awe. "Of course it would, to you."

She frowned, looking at him. "Is there something wrong with that?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, Elena. You are simply extraordinary." He tangled his fingers with hers and brought her hand up to his lips briefly, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, before allowing her fingers to slide from his grasp. The simple, swift action was somehow more casual than before; her lips were parted and her eyes were wide, swimming with a spectrum of emotions. Her eyes were always so expressive; he wondered if she knew it.

Sensing she was at a loss for words, he tucked a strand of errant hair behind her ear and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

She snapped out of it and beamed at him, her teeth seeming extra white against her tanned skin. She settled her hand in the crook of his elbow.

"We shall."

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

**Okay so I lied about a lot of things: there was not much heat between them like I said there would be, and my next chapter is going to be just a few days later – I'm not ready to jump ahead just yet. So there will be a couple more chapters than I anticipated, just because I don't want them to be too long and I like to update frequently because I get a little impatient (I think we've established by now that patience is not really my strong suit). **

**Snippets from Elena's letters to her friends will continue to pop up throughout the story. I've actually really enjoyed doing those. Her letter to Damon in this chapter is extreme – I decided to go ahead and just lay it all out there. Because I think in the show she is actually in love with him at this point, but is just so hung up on Stefan…I just thought that, if there was a good time, then this was it. So I'm sorry if it seems a little rushed or OOC for Elena. But I feel so bad for Damon sometimes, and I thought he deserved a little something.**

**Thanks for reading, and review if you feel so inclined! :) xoxoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

**So I realized that the timeline of this story is a little off – I started this story in spring (hence the daffodils and Elena's dress and all that jazz) and I'm pretty sure the ball and all the Mikaelson family drama happened sometime in the fall/winter in the TV show. Sorry about that – I didn't really think that part through.**

**I thought I would mention that the story about Mr. Lafitte in the last chapter was actually true. When I was little my family lived in a picturesque white cottage on 12 acres of wooded land outside of Morganton NC and we had a neighbor named George Lafitte. He technically lived on our property, actually – we let him stay in the little caretaker's cottage down the driveway for free, and in return he mowed our lawn and blew our leaves and generally just took care of the place. When I was 4 he built my sister and me an awesome playground, and when I was 7 he helped me plant my very own garden (we grew tomatoes, peppers and squash and lined it with marigolds). I couldn't walk until I was almost 2 years old because I was severely pigeon-toed (I still am, to this day) and therefore I had trouble running and was just clumsy in general. So when I was 5, George taught me how to skip. Imagine this extremely introverted, cranky, wrinkly old man holding the hand of a girl in a frilly dress with a bow in her hair and skipping together down the covered walkway at church. **

**Anyway, he did get sick, when I was 9, and his own personal garden took a nosedive. So one night my Mom, my sister and I snuck down the driveway and planted exactly 50 daffodils in his front yard. It was one of the only times my parents actually let us stay up 'til the wee hours of the morning. And he did die a few months later, and my parents performed the funeral. It was so sad; he was a really neat old man.**

**Anyway, my own mother passed away a little over a year ago, very suddenly at the age of 53. But it's the stories like that that really do her memory justice. She did so many things for people, and the fact that there were 532 people logged into the guest book at her funeral is a testament to how much she was loved. She truly was an amazing woman, and an exceptionally good person. I just love that memory of her, and so I thought I would share it with you. :) **

**Below is the link to see what Elena's shirt might look like in this story – except imagine it in silver.**

** clothing/haute-hippie-black-sequined-halter-top/ **

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_Festivals were a very important part of life in Ancient Greece, and were a central part of worshipping the gods. They usually included a procession and a sacrifice. Festivals also included various competitions, which were seen as another way to honor a god. There were competitions in music, poetry, drama and athletics, to name a few. Some of the most important festivals in Ancient Greece involved athletic competition, such as the Olympic Games, which were held in honor of Zeus, and the Pythian Games, held at Delphi in honor of Apollo._

_One festival in Athens, held to honor Dionysos, involved a competition between playwrights. This led to the creation of some of the best-known plays from ancient Greece, written by people such as Sophocles, Euripides and Aristophanes. These plays were structured – _

Elena's head whipped up from her book as her door flew open. She glared as Rebekah strode in without care, moving immediately to Elena's closet.

Elena gasped indignantly from her spot on the bed. "Excuse me? What do you think you're doing?"

The youngest Original sibling walked out of the closet, clothes and shoes in hand. She threw them on the bed.

"Get dressed," she said imperiously, her face devoid of all emotion. "We're going out."

"We?" Elena responded exasperatedly. "There is no 'we.' You hate me. Conveniently enough, I don't really care for you either. In fact, I _strongly_ dislike you. Why on earth would I spend any sort of time with you of my own free will?"

The blonde sneered. She had stopped throwing a fit every time Elena said something insulting (which was usually done in retaliation to something Rebekah had originally thrown at her); she was getting used to the doppelganger's constant presence amongst her family. The barbed insults they continued to hurl at each other on a daily basis held very little malice anymore – they were mostly said out of habit. Neither of them _really_ hated each other anymore, but neither of them wanted to admit it, either, and so they danced around each other, tired of the animosity between them but unsure of how to break the mold they had set.

"My brothers are…preoccupied." Elena briefly wondered what the trio of handsome brothers was up to. "And honestly, I'm getting tired of hanging out with boys, especially those that are related to me. They really can be _exceptionally_ boring, those three," Rebekah said with an eye roll. "I haven't been out on the town since we've been here, and I've never truly been clubbing, either – being daggered for fifty years, and all." Another eye roll. "Plus, Greek men can be simply gorgeous. And there are two cruise ships in port, so it will be packed. I want to go out and get drunk and find some delicious Grecian to bring home and snack on."

Elena cocked her head. "What's in it for me?"

A slow smile spread across the pretty vampire's face. She held up a hand – a shiny black credit card was tucked between two fingers. "Freedom. Men, dancing, and limitless alcohol." She pulled the top of her sparkly black body-con dress down and tucked the card into her bright scarlet bra. "I have a credit card of my own, of course, but I thought it would be more fun to relieve Nik of his. Come on, Elena – tell me you haven't just been _itching_ to get back at the poncy little git."

Elena gave a loud guffaw. "Alright," she agreed. "On one condition: when we leave, any nastiness between us stays here until we get back. So you shake the attitude for a night, and I'll keep my thoughts to myself."

Rebekah cocked her head, and then nodded. "Deal." She turned towards the door. "Gaia!" she called.

Within seconds the petite Greek maid appeared, popping up outside Elena's doorway. "Miss Mikaelson?"

"She," she said haughtily, gesturing to Elena, "needs help. Make her look fabulous. I won't be seen with anything less."

Gaia nodded and stepped inside, going immediately into the bathroom and pulling out all manner of things from the drawers.

"I," Rebekah continued, arching a finely plucked eyebrow, "am going to feed; my brothers seem to have compelled themselves a delicious-looking tourist. Meet me downstairs in thirty minutes."

"Fine," Elena grumbled, pulling a face at the prospect of the family of vampires latching onto some poor soul downstairs. Blech.

After the Original sister pulled the door closed behind her, Elena hopped off the bed and stripped, inspecting the outfit Rebekah had chosen for her. She pulled on tiny, low-cut black shorts and a pair of impossibly high strappy neon yellow heels that made her legs look a mile long. The shirt was a silver, sequined, backless halter top that left a sliver of skin showing above the waistband of her shorts. She felt like a sexy disco ball. She could not wear a bra with it, but when Gaia pulled some double-stick tape from her bathroom drawer she sighed in relief.

The Greek woman motioned for her to sit on the stool in front of the sink. She secured Elena's top and then fastened a pretty silver watch around her wrist. The earrings she gave to Elena were fairly large diamond studded hoops (real diamonds, she was positive).

Not a single item in her outfit actually _belonged_ to her.

Gaia worked quickly and efficiently, but was very thorough. She applied Elena's makeup with a steady hand, laying the eye shadow and mascara on thick, and, within a matter of minutes, had managed to make the doppelganger's face look flawless. She dusted some shimmering bronzer across Elena's shoulders and dabbed perfume behind her ears, on her wrists and at the hollow of her throat.

When she took out a pair of scissors, Elena balked.

Gaia sensed her panic. "Trust me, _koritsi_. Only a trim."

Elena swallowed nervously but nodded, closing her eyes. Her hair was her security blanket. It had always been long and healthy and she liked to think it was one of her assets. She hoped beyond hope that the petite Grecian would not alter it drastically.

Approximately eight minutes later, Gaia tapped her on the shoulder. "Done," she said cheerily. "See? It makes you look even more beautiful, yes? _Aktinovolos."_

Elena stared at herself in the mirror and sighed in relief. Wow. The maid had not cut much off, after all: maybe an inch. She had merely shaped it up a bit, adding some subtle layers and soft, sweeping side bangs. It looked thicker and more voluminous than ever before, and made her look older and much less juvenile. It was sophisticated. She ran her hands through it, unable to contain her grin.

"Wow. It looks great, Gaia," she said in awe. "Thank you. I was terrified, but it's wonderful."

The Greek woman blushed. "I'm glad you approve. Now you must go – if there is one thing I have learned about Miss Mikaelson since I met her two weeks ago, it is that she does not like to be kept waiting." She winked conspiratorially.

Elena smiled back. "She's a piece of work, isn't she?" She stood, turning this way and that in the mirror. She'd never felt sexier in her entire life. She felt like a new person.

She dabbed some translucent lip-gloss on her bottom lip, smiled at herself in the mirror, and turned on her heel.

"Thanks so much, Gaia. I owe you big time," she said again.

"Have fun and be safe," the dark woman replied with a smile and a wave.

Elena waved back and strutted out of the room with a newfound confidence.

She froze at the bottom of the stairs, swallowing. Elijah was in a suit again, but his tie hung loose around his neck and his top two buttons were undone. He was reading a book that looked as ancient as he was. Klaus sat next to him looking bored, idly flipping through the TV channels. Rebekah stood behind them inspecting her nails, her foot tapping impatiently. Elena's eyes, however, were fixed on the youngest Mikaelson brother. Her breath caught in her throat and her stomach churned.

Kol was sitting in the armchair with his arms wrapped loosely around a young blonde woman that sat on his knee. His face was buried in her neck, and he slurped greedily at the blood leaking from her artery. He looked up as she reached the bottom of the stairs and grinned, his vampire visage fading, his eyes raking blatantly over her figure. His lips and teeth were stained red. In the time that she'd lived with them, she had never seen any of them feed from the vein; they'd kept that part of their nature private from her. She wondered what had changed.

"Well well, don't you look positively _delectable _this evening," Kol purred. He went back to drinking, but his dark gaze remained on her.

At his words Elijah and Klaus turned to look at her, and their reactions were priceless. She was caught somewhere between a smirk and a blush. Klaus's mouth had literally dropped open, and Elijah's jaw clenched tightly and ticked under the tension.

She couldn't tear her eyes from his. His stare was hot, and his eyes were nearly black. She swallowed and shifted uncomfortably.

"Niklaus, close your mouth – you look like a fish," Rebekah said snidely. "In fact, all of you look like idiots. Now then, Elena," she said, turning to the doppelganger, "shall we?"

"Yes," she replied quickly, striding briskly to the door. Three sets of eyes followed her, burning into her back. She cleared her throat and looked back at them. Once again, her gaze was drawn to the eldest brother. His eyes wandered leisurely over her form before they settled on her brown orbs once again; the barest hint of a smile touched his face, a purely predatory look that had her insides quivering. In fear or in lust, she did not know – maybe some of both. Torrid images flashed through her head: _naked bodies pressed together on the bed, on the floor, against the wall…_

She forced herself to look away. If he kept eye-fucking her like that, she couldn't be responsible for her actions.

She knew Elijah wanted her, in a sexual capacity at the very least. And she had come to realize that she wanted him back – very much so, in fact. He had a certain aura about him; he had a commanding presence and exuded a quiet power that made people not only fear him but respect him as well. He had an easy, quiet confidence that drew people to him, made them want to please him. He made her heart thump with only a look, but also had the ability to put her immediately at ease. He made her smile. It didn't hurt that he was _absurdly_ good-looking, fit, and had a thousand years of experience in all sorts of things…the thought made her shudder. Just what were those hands and that mouth capable of? Part of her was itching to find out.

Guilt and thoughts of the Salvatores had been keeping her away, overshadowing her attraction to him, but with each passing day her former lover and his brother faded further and further from her mind. Her attention was more and more often occupied by the Originals, and her thoughts were drifting away from Mystic Falls. She still thought of them, yes, but it was almost in passing, like an afterthought. She was ashamed – it had been two weeks and a day since she'd left home, and her mind was already burying the memories of her old life.

She cleared her throat. "Well…bye!" she said cheerily, somewhat awkwardly, before escaping hurriedly through the front door. She missed the small smirk Rebekah sent Elijah's way.

It was nearly eighty degrees outside, but somehow it felt cooler than it did inside. She was flushed and breathing hard. She felt sweaty and sticky, simply from the heat in Elijah's gaze.

She hadn't missed the way the other two brothers looked at her, either. Sometimes she would catch Klaus staring at her when he thought she wasn't looking – it unnerved her, to say the least. Kol didn't bother to hide his lechery; he seemed to relish in making her uncomfortable.

Taking a deep breath, she stared out into the night. Mykonos was lit up, people crowding the streets and the beach, and music drifted up to her ears. A gentle breeze swirled around her, ruffling her newly cut hair and helping to abate the humidity.

She stared at the cobblestone streets below her with skepticism, looking down at her heels. There was no way this would go well. Before she could mention it, Rebekah dangled something in front of her face.

"Earth to Elena…" she said softly. "I know you're all caught up in the ridiculous sexual tension between you and my eldest brother – _ew _– but could you please pay attention?"

Elena scowled. "Attitude," she warned.

Rebekah sighed. "Fine…sorry," she said in a tone that made it clear she was anything but sorry. "Just take the damn keys."

Her brow furrowed as she took the keys from her companion's outstretched hand. She followed Rebekah into the alley next to the house, and squealed in delight.

Vespas. A whole fleet of them.

Wicked.

0000000000000000

The bass line throbbed, its sound deafening, and vibrated throughout her entire body. She was definitely sweating by now – alcohol combined with dancing combined with the intense heat from a hundred bodies pressed together, not to mention the natural Greek climate, had her body heat skyrocketing. Rebekah danced next to her, seemingly unfazed. But of course she wasn't affected – she was a vampire. Elena allowed herself a moment of envy. The blonde still looked perfect.

The Original suddenly grabbed her hand. "Another!" she shouted above the music. They both grinned.

Moving through the crowd, they got to the bar. This was the third club they'd hit that night, and it was by far their favorite. They were already famous – people at the bar moved aside for them, nudging them up to the front. The duo had taken the club by storm; Rebekah had handed one of the bartenders (the young, gorgeous local boy) Klaus's credit card and had announced that she was buying the whole club a round of drinks. Needless to say, they were very popular.

Rebekah sat on a stool that an attractive tourist had vacated for her, and that same man lifted Elena up by the waist and sat her on the counter. None of the bartenders seemed to mind – they only smiled at her. They were making boatloads of money off of the two mysterious, beautiful young women that had simply popped up in the bar an hour earlier.

The bartender came over to them immediately. Rebekah ordered them both tequila shots with salt and lemons, and told him to charge another round of drinks for the club to her card. He blushed when she winked at him.

She turned back to Elena. Her blue eyes were a little hazy; she imagined that her own were, as well. They were both very pleasantly tipsy – after this next drink they would tip over into the official drunk category.

"What time is it?" the blonde shouted, tapping her wrist.

Elena glanced at her watch, the face swimming in her vision for a moment before it cleared. "Just past midnight!" she yelled back.

Rebekah smiled. "Can I tell you something? You have to promise not to tell my brothers."

Elena nodded. It was amazing, the bridges between people that alcohol could build in the course of a night. She felt a certain camaraderie with the youngest Original, one that, had you told her about it earlier in the day, she would have laughed at.

The thousand-year-old blonde, perpetually stuck in an eighteen-year-old body, tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. "Today is my birthday!"

Elena gasped. "No way! How old?"

"Old," Rebekah croaked, burping. She grabbed their drinks from the bartender and handed one to Elena. "Old as dirt. I'm 1,127 years old. Can you believe that?" she said drunkenly.

Elena giggled. "Damn, you're like a fossil!"

The vampire laughed. "I know, right? I'm a fucking relic. An artifact. I should be in a museum somewhere."

Elena licked her hand, and then licked Rebekah's, and shook salt onto the wet skin. "It's March 21st, and you're 1,127!" she exclaimed, holding her drink up. "I'll drink to that! Happy birthday!"

Rebekah touched her glass to Elena's and they simultaneously licked the salt from their hands, shot back their tequila like pros, and clamped down on their lemons. Elena winced, feeling the burn of the liquor on her esophagus and stomach. It was a good burn, though. It had been a ridiculously long time since she'd had fun like this.

"You know, I haven't done this in a really long time," she said, leaning towards her new vampire drinking-buddy. "I was a _totally_ different person before my parents died," she continued, her words slurring under the effect of the liquor. "I used to go down to the lake every Friday night and drink and dance with my friends. I was wild. I had so much fun. And then it was over, just like that."

"Just like that," Rebekah repeated quietly, hiccupping. "Well, it's time to break out of that cycle, Elena. Time to have a little fun again! This reminds me of the twenties, but so much better."

Elena stared at the blonde dreamily. "The twenties sound awesome. I wish I could have experienced the flapper decade." She swallowed, her throat dry. "How come you don't want your brothers to know about your birthday?" she asked frankly.

Rebekah shrugged. "We haven't celebrated our birthdays in hundreds of years. Honestly, I think they all lost track of the dates – except for me. I remember all of them. Elijah would feel guilty for not remembering, and Klaus and Kol would tell me what a silly little girl I am for dwelling on it. It's not worth the drama. So each year I sort of celebrate on my own. I celebrate all of theirs, too, even though they couldn't care less."

Elena peered at her curiously. "When are theirs?"

"Klaus will be 1,134 on June 19th. Kol will be 1,130 on August 2nd, and Elijah will be 1,139 on September 30th." She frowned, and her eyes turned sad. "Finn turned 1,137 this past January, on the 27th. And Henrik, if he'd survived all those years ago, would be 1,123 on April 5th."

"Did you know Aaron's?" Elena asked curiously. "After all, he died long before you were born, didn't he?"

"Yes, of the plague," she replied wistfully. "His birthday was sometime in the winter, I think. I can't remember if he was two or three years older than Elijah. Elijah is the only one who remembers him at all, and even his recollections are vague. It was so long ago." Her blue eyes were far away, in another time and place.

Elena signaled to the bartender. "Well, from here on out, I will celebrate with you in secret. How's that?"

Rebekah smiled genuinely. "I would like that. Some company would be nice."

"However, since we've missed Finn's, we should take a shot in his memory," she suggested slyly, her face twisting into a smirk.

Rebekah grimaced. "Even though he tried to kill us all," she muttered bitterly.

Elena shrugged. "Yes – there is that," she replied bluntly.

Rebekah laughed suddenly, bursting into a fit of giggles. "He's still my brother though, isn't he?" she asked rhetorically, grinning. "I suppose he deserves a toast." She lifted up the drink that the bartender had poured her, uncaring as to what it was. "To Finn, my annoyingly moral brother with a guilt complex that beats out Elijah's any day of the week, hands down – may he rest in peace!"

"To Finn!" Elena shot hers down, coughing slightly. Whiskey. She shuddered. Hopping off the counter, she grabbed Rebekah's hand. "Let's dance!"

000000000000

One minute they were dancing, the next minute Elena was lip-locked with the cruise tourist she was grinding against. When she pulled away, Rebekah and the man she'd been dancing with were gone.

Elena frowned. Her new make-out buddy made a noise of protest and tried to pull her back to him, but she pulled herself out of his grasp and whirled around, her eyes scanning the crowd.

Through the crowd she saw a side door open, saw a head of bright blonde hair step outside. Elena followed her; now would not be a good time to lose her companion. Rebekah was her only protector – without the Original by her side, anything could happen. Elena was vulnerable on her own.

When she stepped out into the back alley, she froze.

It was one of those moments in time that was both in slow motion and in the blink of an eye. Later, when asked, she would not be able to recall exactly what had happened.

Rebekah's body was pushed against the wall of the building – but something wasn't right. The handsome Greek man she had been dancing with now stood over her; that's when Elena noticed the stake that pierced her heart. The vampire was already desiccated, her skin grey and her eyes closed.

A hunter.

Elena knew Rebekah would be fine – she was no ordinary vampire, after all – but she was still enraged. The alcohol pumping through her system made her bold. She didn't stop to think before she bent to pick up a piece of a cinderblock by her feet.

The man turned around as she launched herself at him. Her balance was off because of her inebriated state, but her aim was true. The piece of cinderblock in her hand smashed into his face.

He screamed and lunged for her. They both went down to the ground, tangled in a mess of limbs. His forehead hit her shoulder, and blood smeared onto her skin.

His hand seized her throat, pressing down and choking her. Desperate for air, she scrabbled once more for the cinderblock, finding it next to her on the ground, and clutched it, bringing it down on the crown of his head. His gripped slackened and he yelled in pain, but he would not let go of her.

Struggling underneath the weight of his body, she repeatedly crashed the cinderblock fragment into his skull. He rolled off of her, clutching his head, and she sat up and attacked him again, bashing his head with the piece of cement.

She felt blood spatter her face and neck. When he stopped squirming and went still beneath her, she dropped the block, scrambled to her feet, and rushed over to where Rebekah's body lay, lifeless and grey, on the ground.

Breathing heavily, she crouched down next to the Original sister, cradling her head in her lap. She tugged the stake – carved and finished, indicative of a professional – from Rebekah's heart.

"Rebekah," she murmured. "Bekah, wake up. Wake up." She shook the blonde's shoulders.

Nothing. Elena cringed as she heard voices from the street. She searched desperately for a phone on Rebekah's person, but found nothing. Making a split second decision, she sliced her wrist open with a sharp edge of the forgotten cinderblock and pressed it to the vampire's mouth.

She sighed in relief when color returned to Rebekah's face and her lips moved against Elena's wrist. She winced as her life force was sucked from her body.

Eventually Rebekah pulled away. Elena's blood stained her mouth. She shuddered, holding a hand to her heart, taking unneeded breaths with lungs that hadn't worked in over a thousand years.

She stared at Elena. All drunkenness had faded, leaving her eyes a clear, sharp blue.

"You saved me," Rebekah croaked, her voice hoarse and tinged with wonder. "You knew I would be fine, but you came to my rescue anyway."

Elena did not respond and looked back at the body of the vampire hunter. Her head swam and her stomach flipped. His face was unrecognizable, a bloody, bashed-in mess, skin torn and bones broken. Blood was everywhere: it matted his hair, ran down his face and neck, and was sticky on her hands and arms. There was a smear of it on her shoulder, and blood spatter from the impact of the block with his head covered her neck and chest. She imagined it was on her face, too.

She had killed a man. She'd bashed his head in. She'd taken a life.

She stood abruptly, stumbling over to the alley wall, and retched, tossing the contents of her stomach. Wretched sobs tore through her body, wracking her frame. Tears blinded her.

Suddenly there was a whoosh of air. She jumped when a hand gently touched her shoulder.

"I think it's time we head home, don't you?"

0000000000000

Elijah turned on his bedside table lamp and flipped the overhead light off. He sighed. The clock read 2:24.

What a night.

Just as he pulled on his pajama pants, a timid knock sounded at the door. He could hear the steady human heartbeat on the other side.

"Come in," he said in response.

The door opened slowly, revealing their resident doppelganger. She was freshly showered and squeezed the ends of her hair with a towel. She wore pajamas that were not intentionally sexy but that managed to rile him up anyway.

"Elena," he said gently, smiling at her. "You look a sight better."

She had been a mess when she and Rebekah returned home an hour ago, both of them covered in blood. Elena looked like she'd seen a ghost; her eyes were dead.

Klaus had been beyond upset. He'd gone off on a bender, yelling at the pair of girls for their carelessness. Rebekah had merely glared at him and summoned Gaia to escort the traumatized doppelganger back to her room. Then his sister had calmly taken a seat on the couch next to a fuming hybrid and recounted what happened.

Now Elena stood in his doorway, not a trace of blood left on her skin. It was pink from where she'd scrubbed it – probably more than was necessary. He saw red when he noticed the rapidly forming bruise around her neck; anger rose within him, and he felt the sudden violent urge to kill something. She held a glass of scotch in her hand. He raised an eyebrow.

She blushed. "I threw up everything on my stomach earlier…and the buzz faded really quickly after that. I can feel the urge to get hysterical creeping up on me, and needed something to calm my nerves. Don't worry," she added, "I had a piece of toast to soak it up a little."

She stepped forward a little, peering around his room. Her eyes flickered constantly to his bare chest. "Can I come in?" she asked shyly.

He motioned for her to enter. She climbed immediately and without invitation onto his king-sized sleigh bed, propping herself up against the headboard; he found that he didn't really mind…not with her. Without a word he settled in next to her. The scent of her shampoo heavily permeated the air.

She was staring at the wall. "I can't sleep," she whispered hoarsely. "I keep seeing his face, keep replaying everything in my mind."

"You did nothing wrong, Elena," he pressed. "You saw that my sister was in danger, and you acted on instinct."

She swallowed, drawing her knees to her chest and twisting towards him. "What if he had a family, Elijah?" Tears welled up in her eyes. Her lip trembled. "What if he had a wife, children, a mother who loved him? What have I done?"

Elijah felt helpless. It had been so long since he'd felt a sense of guilt over killing someone that he'd forgotten what it was like; he could not relate to her sense of despair. To him, killing was a part of life. He would have ripped off that hunter's head without missing a beat and never thought of it again.

"Elena…I know now is probably not the time for logic," he said hesitantly, "but you must think about the fact that he would have killed you, too. As soon as you stepped through the door to that alley, you became a liability to him. If you hadn't acted as you did, you would have ended up as collateral damage. And while my sister can't be killed, I'm afraid _you_ can be."

She sipped at her scotch and swirled the amber liquid around in her glass, staring at it. "You're right," she replied softly. "You're always right. But that doesn't make it any easier."

A single tear slipped down her cheek. He reached out to wipe it away, skimming his thumb across her cheekbone.

"I know," he said compassionately. She leaned into him and rested her forehead on his bare shoulder. He smoothed a hand down the back of her wet hair. "But it will get easier with time."

She sighed. Silence reigned for a few minutes, each of them comfortable not speaking. It was in no way awkward; they were compatible that way, each possessing a gift for silence.

"Elijah?" she said finally, timidly, lifting her head to look at him.

"Hmm?"

"Will you make it go away?"

He frowned and turned to look at her. "Like…in your mind?"

She nodded. "Like help me get to sleep, and keep the nightmares at bay."

He considered her for a long moment, his eyes locked with hers. "You realize I will be inside your head."

"Yes," she replied. "I trust you. I just can't…I can't shake it. The alcohol is keeping me from becoming hysterical, yes, but I can't get it out of my mind. I remember the feeling of his bones smashing, and how my hands got slippery with his blood." Her voice trembled. She swallowed. "I feel dirty, still. And my conscience won't rest."

He nodded.

"Can I stay here?"

He was already pulling the covers down. "Of course, lovely Elena. You are always welcome." This wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind for their first time in bed together, but he didn't say that out loud. He would take what he could get, for the time being. Besides, he genuinely cared for the girl, and did not mind playing the role of comforter; he found himself wanting to know her on more than a physical level.

She had a beautiful soul – that much he already knew. It was an old soul, one rarely found within a person so young. Somehow she was wise, but still maintained a stark naivety; he wondered how one could exist alongside the other. She was an enigma, that was for sure.

She snuggled down under the covers, moving closer to him. He remained sitting up against the headboard; her head lay on a pillow next to his waist, and he could feel her breath against his skin. Her eyes were closed. He struggled to maintain his composure. His mouth was dry. His manhood twitched. His body yearned for her.

He placed his hand on her head, stroking her hair, and closed his eyes. He reached for her mind and it opened for him, unfurling like a flower. He slid in with practiced ease, immersing himself in her memories and thoughts.

He was amazed at how prevalent her attraction to him was, sitting there in the forefront of her consciousness. Her feelings for him were much more complicated than he'd anticipated. He pushed them aside impatiently, trying not to let them distract him, and began to form an image in her subconscious.

She was already asleep. He stroked his thumb across her temple, smoothing the hair back from her face.

"Goodnight, beautiful Elena," he murmured into the room. "Sweet dreams."

000000000000

_Caroline and Bonnie were lounging on their towels on the shore, the lake water lapping gently at their feet. They were giggling about something, their heads together conspiringly. A mutt, barely past puppyhood, frolicked in the shallows. _

_She was laughing, splashing around in the lake while Matt and Tyler took turns doing somersaults from the cliffs above, each trying to outdo the other. _

"_Come on then, Mattie!" she shouted playfully. "Let's see what you've got!"_

_He jumped with a whoop, spinning in midair before landing close to her with a splash. Tyler was quick to follow, jumping with a shout of triumph._

_She sighed contentedly, laying spread eagle on her back on the water, her hair floating like a halo around her. The sky was so vivid, such a brilliant shade of blue; she never wanted to look away. A bird flitted by, singing._

"_Elena."_

_She shifted, and was staring into a pair of bottomless brown eyes. She drifted into his arms, and he kissed her._

_Suddenly she was tumbling backwards onto soft sheets of gold, her back pressed firmly into the mattress. His hands were all over her naked body, seducing here, teasing there, fanning the flame of her desire into an inferno. She gasped as he slipped inside her, his body flush with hers. She arched her back and mewled with pleasure as he brought her up with slow, deep thrusts. Their eyes connected, and he kissed her. She whispered his name against his lips, almost a caress._

"_Elijah."_

Elena woke with a start, sitting up in bed so fast that her head spun and her vision went black. Her body tingled all over, and she could feel the arousal between her thighs.

She glanced over at her current bedmate. She flushed hotly as his eyes snapped open and his heated gaze landed on her.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, his voice husky with sleep and arousal. "I fell asleep without meaning to, and my subconscious took over. I didn't mean to project that into your head."

She stared at him. He was beautiful in the morning sun, like a bronzed god on display, his torso bare to her gaze. Her mouth watered, and her head was foggy, her thoughts lost in her desire for him. Without thinking, she reached up to touch the tattoo on his chest.

With a low growl, he grabbed her hand before she could trace it with her fingers. Sitting abruptly, he brought his face to hers, his chest only inches from her own. He entwined his fingers with hers, staring into her eyes, and moved forward slowly to rest his forehead against her own. He brought a hand to her neck; felt the artery beneath her skin pulse rapidly against his palm.

"Elena," he whispered, brushing his thumb across her jaw line. She shuddered, and her eyes drifted close. Her hand came to rest over his, the pads of her fingers brushing his knuckles.

The door to his bedroom burst open, flung wide, and they jumped apart, breathing heavily. Elena scrambled off the bed as Kol barged into the room.

He grinned at them, leaning against his eldest brother's doorjamb. He whistled lowly through his teeth, eyeing Elena up and down lecherously.

"Have I interrupted something?" he said slyly, looking back and forth between the pair. Elena blushed.

"No!" she denied quickly. "Nothing at all. I was just…leaving," she said lamely, brushing past Kol and escaping into the hallway. He let her pass, bumping her shoulder with his and smirking.

"Good morning to you too, darling," he muttered to her retreating form.

Elena slipped into her room, shutting the door behind her and locking it. Leaning back against the door, she closed her eyes and willed her heart to slow down. She couldn't seem to catch her breath.

She groaned, letting her head fall back against the door.

_What the hell was THAT?_

She had just had dream sex with dream Elijah. And if sex with him in real life was even a fraction as good as it had been in her sleep state, it would still be downright mind-blowing. Elena had the feeling, though, that real life sex would be a hundred times better than it had been in her mind. She shuddered at the thought.

Now she was really in trouble.

0000000000000

Rebekah was beaming at Elena from across the kitchen table, sipping blood from a glass and shoving forkfuls of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

The earth had shifted on its damn axis.

Elijah could only guess that some sort of monumental bridge had been crossed last night while they were clubbing – it also probably had something to do with Elena's actions in the alley.

Elena smiled back at the youngest Original, eating her own eggs in a more ladylike fashion.

She refused to meet his eyes. It didn't bother him, because it was for all the right reasons. He smirked. He truly hadn't meant to construct that dream inside her head this morning, but he'd fallen asleep and his subconscious mind had taken over, his torrid imagination pervading her dreams.

"Elena," he said casually, flipping a page in his newspaper. "I wondered if I might ask you a favor."

Finally, she looked at him, seemingly shocked that he had spoken to her. That's right, he remembered: in her experience, men were awkward and embarrassed about such things. Elijah was, well, _not._ A smug smirk crossed his face when she blushed.

"Of course," she replied. "Anything."

"Anything?" Klaus joked, his voice low and dangerous. "I wouldn't say that, love – that sort of statement could get you into all sorts of trouble. I can think of a few favors I might ask of you." He leered. Elijah stiffened; he saw his brother's eyes flash in response. An unspoken challenge.

She slapped the hybrid's arm and glared at him, though her gaze lacked any real malice. "You're gross, Klaus," she stated simply, taking a bite of toast. Swallowing, she turned back to Elijah, still struggling to meet his eyes. "You were saying, Elijah?"

Elijah cleared his throat. "Business calls me to Paris weekend after next. There is an event I must attend there – a formal party. Akin to a ball, if you will." His voice was nonchalant, but inside his stomach was doing back flips. "I thought perhaps you would enjoy it; and it just so happens that I need a date. Would you be so kind as to accompany me?"

Her mouth gaped open like a fish. He looked back at his newspaper, seemingly unconcerned, to take the pressure off of her. He heard her swallow.

"Of – of course," she stuttered. "Yes, that sounds lovely."

Rebekah was smiling discreetly into her glass of blood. Kol wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, grinning openly. Niklaus's expression had turned sour.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, brother?" Klaus asked tensely, his dark blue eyes hard. "Taking our lovely human out in society where she could become a target? If any of our enemies were to find out who she is and what she means to us…"

Elijah merely smiled. "They will find out soon enough, Niklaus, no matter what measures we take. We are simply delaying the inevitable. Besides," he added, his voice quiet and warning, "who can keep her safer than I? She will never leave my sight for a moment."

His brother's jaw clenched and his temple pulsed. He was staring Elijah down from across the table. Elijah cocked his head. A slow smile spread across Klaus's face, his dimples appearing. It was not a smile of acquiescence – rather one of challenge.

"Very well, brother." He dropped the issue, but it hung in the air between them.

Kol was in the kitchen fixing himself a second plate of breakfast, and on his way to the table he plucked a daisy from the vase on the island and casually tucked it behind Elena's ear. It was very…un-Kol-like. She smiled at him, securing the flower in her hair.

Normally an action like that would make Elijah jealous, but he knew he needn't feel threatened by his youngest brother. Kol had always respected the eldest of the Mikaelson offspring a tad more than the rest of his siblings – he knew better than to cross Elijah; Kol knew how dangerous he could be. Elijah had made his interest in the doppelganger clear, and so, beyond some mild flirtation and teasing sexual banter, Kol showed no intention of pursuing Elena. He would not cross the lines that his brother had set.

Niklaus, however… Elijah studied his half-brother subtly from above the rim of his coffee cup. Klaus could very well be a problem. He, unlike Kol, did not respect the boundaries Elijah made in regards to Elena. The hybrid sat next to Elena now, deliberately bumping her shoulder with his. He watched her from the corner of his eye, appraising her; she looked lovely today, in a cream-colored sundress with eyelet detailing, thick straps and a sweetheart neckline. Pearls adorned her ears and a simple silver locket in the shape of a heart rested in the hollow at her throat. The bruise around her neck had turned a vivid purple; Elijah frowned – Rebekah had offered her blood the night before to heal her, but she'd politely declined.

The way Klaus was looking at her made a low growl rumble up from within his chest; he shoved it back down. He knew his brother was not actually enamored of the doppelganger; he simply viewed her as something to take away from Elijah.

Yes, Klaus could be a problem.

What he needed was a distraction.

An idea forming in his mind, he excused himself from the table, straightening his suit jacket and stalking from the room. He went to his bedroom, closing the door and locking it behind him, and then went even further, securing his closet door. He felt a bit silly, standing among his clothing, but he didn't want to risk being overheard. Lifting his phone to his ear, he waited patiently as it rung once, twice, three times.

The line clicked.

"_Hello?"_

He smirked.

"Hello, Caroline."

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

**This chapter sucked, and I'm sorry. I just can't seem to get it together, lately. The next chapter will be better, I promise – our favorite annoying, perky blonde cheerleader might make an appearance, we'll get a peek of another one of Elena's goodbye letters (I won't tell you whose), and this nasty case of UST between our favorite Original BAMF and his doppelganger will really start to come to a head. Plus, who doesn't like balls? Who can resist Elijah in a tux? Better yet, who would **_**want**_** to?**

**Stay tuned and thanks for reading! :) **

**xoxoxoxo **


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for all the fabulous reviews on the last chapter – I really struggled with it. I suppose we're all guilty of being more critical of our own writing than anybody else – am I right, or am I right? Y'all made me feel loads better about the way it turned out. I've found that reviews are the best confidence booster of all time – I'm addicted to them, really. I check my email several times a day just to see if I have more LOL. So thank you. :)**

**I didn't read this chapter over at all, so I wouldn't be surprised if there are a few mistakes. Just…ignore them. Turn a blind eye. For my sake.**

**Enjoy!**

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"Good morning, love. How are you feeling this morning?"

Elena squinted at the hybrid with bleary eyes, sitting at the kitchen table.

"I'm okay," she replied, tiredly and somewhat warily.

Klaus noticed the dark circles under her eyes. An emotion welled up in him – one that he hadn't felt in a very long time: concern.

"Nightmares again, eh?" he asked softly.

She bristled. "Yes, well, some of us find killing another human being a traumatic experience. I guess after a thousand years you get used to it, but I don't have that luxury." She rested her head on the table, sighing. "Finally I asked Rebekah to…help."

He smiled. Three weeks ago the acerbic statement would have offended him; now, coming from her, it was tolerable. It added to her charm.

She was generally grumpy in the mornings, he'd noticed. It was Gaia's day off, so he'd been the one to make the coffee this morning. Smirking, he set a mug of it down in front of her.

Her head shot up and she inhaled deeply through her nose, reaching out to cradle the mug in her hands. "Oh, you are a saint," she breathed gratefully.

He chuckled. "That's a first." He sat down across from her. She smiled into her coffee.

"What about me, darling?"

Kol strolled into the room, wearing nothing but swim trunks with a towel slung over his shoulder.

Klaus and Elena snorted simultaneously, sipping at their coffee. No words were needed.

His younger brother scowled. "Whatever," he said darkly. He stalked out onto the terrace and dove smoothly into the pool.

Elena smiled at him. "He's such a little prat."

Klaus threw back his head and laughed. She had quickly picked up his sister's vocabulary, and he found it endlessly amusing. "He is, isn't he?"

"I guess it runs in the family." She smirked slyly.

He frowned. "Yes, well," he admitted, "I pull it off a lot better than he does."

She giggled. He took a moment to observe her – she was still in her pajamas, a purple tank top and striped pajama shorts, with little purple slippers on her feet. Her hair was mussed from sleep and her eyes had yet to fully open.

He gave serious thought to seducing her. She was certainly pretty enough…and Elijah would have a fit. He smiled internally at the thought. He loved to rile his older brother up.

However, his brother's feelings were more complicated this time. Whether Elijah knew it or not, he was in love with the girl. His siblings were aware of it, and Klaus was sure even Gaia knew, but Elena was oblivious to it and the eldest Original was in serious denial.

To make a move on the doppelganger might push his brother to the breaking point. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, Klaus was really enjoying his peaceful existence with his siblings. It was mostly due to Elena's presence in the household; she had a positive affect on them all – even him. Especially him. It was hard to have a bad attitude when someone so optimistic was around all the time. She took the wind out of his sails, and for the first time in a _very_ long time he felt…relaxed.

Still…it was tempting to try to take her to bed. It would take some time, however, and time was something he did not have – not as long as Elijah was around. With his charming, handsome brother in the picture competing for her affections, he didn't stand a chance. Elena had already had feelings for the eldest Mikaelson before she moved away with them – now they had increased ten-fold with the absence of her precious Salvatore brothers. And Klaus was very aware of how she felt about _him:_ she no longer hated him, he was sure, but she had just started to warm up to him. She was far from jumping into his arms.

And next weekend she was going away with Elijah – and _only_ Elijah. Klaus had business to attend to in London and Rebekah was accompanying him, and Kol was off to reestablish some connections in southern Africa. He and his siblings would no longer be there to come between them. And if he knew his brother at all, Elijah would take full advantage of the situation. He turned the seduction of women into an art, and there was no doubt Elena would be tumbling into his bed as soon as he had her alone. She underestimated Elijah because of his _honor – _but his brother was not so honorable, really, when it came down to it. When Elijah wanted something, he took it. He was noble, yes – but only to a point. He did not let his nobility get in the way of his desires. And he had the patience of a saint and was just as tenacious, so he almost always got what he wanted.

So in the end, was it really worth it?

Before he could think too hard about it, the doorbell rang. He frowned, looking at his watch. He was expecting someone at noon for a lunch meeting, but it was only nine o'clock.

He went to the front door and opened it. The breath whooshed out of his lungs, and all coherent thoughts, of Elena or anything else, flew out of his head.

She was as beautiful as ever in a sweet yellow sundress, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and aviator sunglasses perched on top of her head. A small suitcase sat next to her on the front stoop, and a purse was slung over her shoulder. Her blue eyes were wide and lovely. There was no malice in them: only anticipation and…nervousness?

She cleared her throat. "Klaus…hi."

His surprise at her presence quickly faded into something akin to joy. Confusion still raged within his mind – how had she found them? – but it was overshadowed by his longing for her.

She was his greatest weakness.

"Caroline: what a pleasant surprise," he said smoothly. "Would you like to come in?"

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When Caroline stepped into the beautiful Greek abode, it took all of ten seconds for her to be ambushed by a squealing brunette. She threw her arms around her best friend, hugging her like her life depended on it. They stood there for a few minutes, merely holding each other, before Elena pulled away.

"But…how?" Elena looked over to Klaus, who had concealed his befuddlement with amusement. The doppelganger launched herself at him, embracing him forcefully. The expression on Klaus's face was priceless.

Caroline would not ruin the moment by telling her friend that it was Elijah, not Klaus, who had invited her here. After all, it wasn't really necessary for her to know, was it?

Klaus patted her awkwardly on the back, his confused blue eyes meeting Caroline's.

She had forgotten how beautiful his eyes were.

She had forgotten how much she hated herself for thinking of him. He was here, in the flesh, and her dead heart did somersaults within her chest.

Elena pulled away. "Thank you, Nik," she said gently, her gratitude sincere. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Neither Klaus nor Caroline missed the nickname that was only ever used by his adoring younger sister. His eyes widened.

He cleared his throat. "Oh, I think I have some idea." He paused awkwardly. "I'm…glad you're happy."

Caroline appreciated that he wasn't openly taking credit for Elena's happiness. There was no false pride there for an action he had not facilitated. She cocked her head, smiling gently at him.

Her apprehension faded with his returning smile.

She had forgotten how charming his dimples were.

"She's only got a few days here, Elena," he said, a hand on the doppelganger's bare shoulder, "you certainly shouldn't waste it talking to me. Go, get dressed," he commanded, urging her up the stairs.

Caroline had forgotten how much he bamboozled her; had forgotten what a conundrum he was. He was so…complicated.

"Right, of course," Elena responded. She grabbed Caroline's hand and tugged her up the stairs.

When Caroline glanced back, he was staring at her, his eyes full of longing.

She had forgotten how much he wanted her.

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By the time Thursday rolled around, Caroline had developed a golden tan and her hair looked almost white with the amount of sun she'd gotten.

Rebekah had been jealous at first – Klaus could only imagine that she felt her newfound relationship with Elena had been threatened – but after a day of careful tact on Elena's part she came around and was polite to Caroline. Klaus was pleasantly surprised when his doppelganger did not exclude his sister in favor of spending time alone with her best friend from Mystic Falls – instead, she and Caroline (despite the young vampire's initial discomfort) included her in almost everything.

The thought made his heart swell. His baby sister had never really had friends – it was hard to get close to people when you were part of the Original family. He longed to see her happy.

He was angry with Elijah at first, for going behind his back – especially given his older brother's intentions. Klaus was not a fool: he knew Elijah had invited Caroline as a distraction, feeling threatened by his growing interest in Elena.

It had worked.

Every day in Caroline's presence made his feelings for her grow, and his anger with his brother quickly faded into nothing. He could not control his emotion when it came to the perky young vampire; and for once he found that he did not want to. It was irritating, to be so attached to her, but it was freeing, in a way.

Oddly enough, she did not seem to mind his attentions. He made sure to give her space during her visit – trying to pursue her would only be obnoxious, at this point, and he didn't want to push it – but she was cordial to him for the entirety of her stay there, and had even flirted with him once or twice. He tried not to get his hopes up, but when she sat next to him at the dinner table that Tuesday evening and playfully stole a carrot from his plate, he couldn't keep his heart from leaping and his mind from jumping to conclusions.

He was sad to see her go.

After Elena said her tearful goodbyes that Thursday morning, Klaus had walked Caroline to the front door. A car waited to take her back to the airport.

He closed the door behind him and handed her suitcase to the driver. He cleared his throat.

"I'm glad you were able to come," he said softly, looking her in the eye. "I was incensed with Elijah for a moment there, but he did the right thing, inviting you here; I'm not so sure I would have agreed to it if he had consulted me first. But Elena and Rebekah really enjoyed your company this week…and so did I." He swallowed.

The kiss was unexpected. It completely blindsided him, and was over far too quickly, but it was like a slice of heaven. It was funny how the barest press of her lips against his had him reeling.

She pulled away, her eyes shy and full of emotion. She beamed at him. "Perhaps…perhaps I can come again sometime? I graduate this summer, you know, and – "

"I know," he interrupted. "Did you think I'd forgotten, Caroline? This is you we're talking about here. You know how much I care for you."

He'd never seen a vampire blush before – did not even know it was physically possible – but she pulled it off with grace. She nodded, speechless.

"I'll tell you what," he offered kindly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear – the action made her shudder involuntarily, "how about I call you? I can't come to your graduation, of course, seeing as how I'm not allowed back in Mystic Falls, but I can give you a graduation present." He flashed his dimples at her. "How would you and Elena like to travel around Europe for a few weeks?"

She gasped, her eyes wide. She grinned at him. "Well, since you can't make it to my graduation…I suppose a trip to Europe would suffice," she said teasingly.

He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her lips. "I sense we have a deal, then."

She smiled into his eyes. "Goodbye, Niklaus," she whispered, using his full name. "I'll see you in a couple of months."

"Goodbye, Caroline," he replied. "Safe travels. And," he added, "happy 18th birthday – early."

This time he was ready for her kiss, and buried his hands in her golden tresses. She smelled like heaven, and as her lips opened under his, she tasted like orange juice.

He pulled away all too quickly, reluctant to let go of her. "You're going to miss your flight," he whispered against her lips.

Her eyes were still closed. "That would give me an excuse to stay a little longer," she whispered back.

He chuckled, his hands cupping her neck. He brought his lips up to her forehead. "You're mother would have a fit."

She sighed. "Yes, I suppose you're right." She finally pulled herself out of his embrace, looking exhilarated, and flounced down the stairs. "Bye, Klaus. And make sure to send me some sort of awesome birthday present."

He laughed. "There's a package already in the mail as we speak, love. You underestimate me."

She climbed into the car, laughing in delight. "Of course there is. You never for a minute gave up, did you?"

"Never," he called back easily. He waved as the car pulled away.

He held a hand to his tingling lips.

What a day this was turning out to be.

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Elena was at the sink, rinsing off her breakfast plate, when she felt someone behind her. A pair of tan, muscled arms caged her in, large, masculine hands resting on the edge of the counter. She froze.

She knew who it was instantly as his smell engulfed her. God, what _was_ that? Was it some sort of cologne, or his laundry detergent, or did he just smell like that naturally? It drove her crazy.

"Morning," he whispered in her ear, dangerously close to nuzzling the side of her neck. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she could feel his breath on her skin. She shivered. A pang of arousal hit her womb. She knew he could probably smell her desire for him, but at this point she couldn't bring herself to be embarrassed. They were past that point. Now she just felt nervous.

"Good morning, Elijah," she said. Her plate was clean but she continued to wash it, needing something to do with her hands. "Sleep well?"

"Not at all," he returned, the rumble of his voice vibrating against her back. "I had a lot on my mind. Did Rebekah help with your nightmares last night? I heard you sleeping soundly in your room."

She swallowed. He wasn't moving away from her. Why wasn't he moving away from her? She could only wash a plate for so long.

"Yes, she's been very helpful these last few days." A sparkle entered her eye, and she couldn't resist her next statement, said to tease him. "And her imagination isn't as torrid as yours, so my dreams are safe when she falls asleep." She turned her head slightly to the right, smirking.

He chuckled behind her. "Yes, but hers aren't nearly as fun, are they?" he murmured against her ear, his lips brushing imperceptibly against the shell of her ear.

She quivered. Oh _God_. Sweet Lord above. She was dying. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't function at all.

Suddenly, finding her strength, she whipped around to face him. His eyes were scorching, and she could not look away, even as they burned through her soul.

His face descended to hers. Millimeters away, he nuzzled her lips with his own. Her mouth parted and her eyes closed in anticipation.

"Well…I would say 'good morning,' but it seems as if you two don't need my well-wishing, do you?"

Elijah sighed against her lips before he pulled away. Elena did not open her eyes, unwilling to look at him just yet. She felt her face redden against her will.

"Good morning, Niklaus. You slept well, I hope?" Elijah's tone was one of forced politeness. She could hear the irritation in his voice, simmering just below the surface. After weeks of living with him, she had come to sort out the nuances of his speech. In fact, she had become familiar with all of the siblings' expressions and affects.

She opened her eyes and looked over at the annoying hybrid. The expression on his face was one of mischief and malicious glee. Caroline had left yesterday morning and Klaus had returned to his usual self, although in light of his behavior during her friend's visit she could no longer think of him as evil.

_Thanks, Caroline. Way to ruin my opinion of him. Now everything is screwed up in my mind._

"Yes of course, brother."

"Dreaming of a certain blonde cheerleader, were we?"

Klaus scowled. "Shove off, Elijah." He stalked out of the room.

Elijah chuckled. Elena swallowed nervously when she realized he was still boxing her in against the counter.

He looked at her for a long, tortuous moment, and for a second she thought he was going to finish what he started and try to kiss her again. She was both relieved and disappointed when he pulled away to lean against the kitchen island.

"Are you packed?" he asked casually. "Our flight leaves at noon."

She nodded. "Gaia helped me put things together last night. I'm all set. If you don't mind, I think I'll spend the next couple of hours out by the pool."

"Of course," he said, gesturing to the terrace. "I'll come get you at quarter past eleven."

She thanked him and made a quick escape, nearly sprinting up the stairs to change.

She could have sworn she heard him chuckle behind her.

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The flight had been _unbearable._

They had flown first class, of course (Klaus and Rebekah had taken the jet to London) but it still seemed too small of a distance between him and Elena. For nearly three hours he sat, fidgeting, itching to touch her.

She was equally as uncomfortable, sending sidelong glances his way out of the corner of her eye. She had attempted to distract herself by reading, but he noticed she had not flipped the page in quite a while.

When they finally arrived at his little apartment in the heart of Paris, he took her bags to her room and allowed her to explore. He exited the apartment, claiming he had a meeting (which was in fact not for another hour) and told her he would be back at 6:30 to change and escort her to the ball, which started at seven.

It was going to be a long night.

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Elena sighed in relief when Elijah left, relaxing for the first time since that morning. She needed some time alone to collect herself; she couldn't seem to function when he was so close all the time. Her attraction for him was getting out of control – it was like a floodgate had been dropped since that dream, her feelings creating a maelstrom inside her head.

She looked around the apartment. It was lovely, everything she'd imagined Paris to be. The walls were ivory with ornate crown molding, and a delicate crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling. It was obviously very old, but well cared for and beautifully decorated, the furniture classic and very old-world charming.

She went into the room he had put her things in, and started to get ready.

All of the choices of her appearance were made with him in mind; she was not intentionally trying to drive him crazy, but her subconscious mind was hell bent on seducing him, even if she was not aware of it.

She showered and spent hours getting ready, applying her makeup carefully and styling her hair to perfection.

When she heard Elijah reenter the apartment, her heart jumped.

She waited until he had closed the door to his room before she emerged nervously, smoothing down the skirt of her gown.

Her dress was a simple silk backless gown with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. The burgundy material flowed gently from her hips to the floor, and when she moved her left leg peeked out through a slit that came to mid-thigh and her matching peep-toe heels could be seen under the skirt. Rebekah had helped her select it from the variety of gowns in her closet in Greece.

She had pulled her hair back into a simple chignon, securing it with diamond-adorned bobby pins (she'd done the best she could, without Gaia's help). Dangly diamond earrings hung from her ears, and her neck was bare. Rebekah had insisted upon no necklace, for some reason, and so Elena went along with it.

She was too naïve to recognize that the blonde was setting her up to look like the ultimate Elijah snack. Dark red dress, hair swept back and neck bare of jewelry…yes, she was vampire bait, and for one Original vampire in particular. She only came to realize it when the vampire in question stepped out of his room, straightening his bowtie, and looked at her.

He froze in his doorway, his hands dropping to his sides. His eyes raked over her figure so blatantly that she shifted under his gaze. She laughed nervously, and spun for him.

"So? Do I pass inspection? What do you think?"

His eyes skimmed over her body once more before settling on her brown orbs. "I can't."

"Can't what?" she asked, frowning.

"Can't think." He swallowed, staring at her. "You look stunning, Elena."

She knew that she looked nice, but hearing him say it was something else entirely. She smiled. "Worthy of accompanying an Original to a ball?"

He smiled and held out his arm. "Most assuredly."

Pleased, she slipped her hand around his arm and stepped with him through the door.

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"You're quite the dancer, Miss Gilbert."

She held her head up haughtily. "You sound surprised. I was in the running for Miss Mystic Falls, you know. I've known most of these dances since I was a child."

"Ah yes, I seem to recall you mentioning that. Still, I'm impressed. You're a natural."

Elena almost stumbled when his hand slipped from her waist to her uncovered back, the skin of his palm warm. She gave him a warning glare.

"You're trying to distract me."

He feigned innocence; he almost pulled it off, but his eyes gave him away. "Whatever do you mean, Elena?"

She scowled. "You're testing me. Seeing if I'll slip up. It won't work, you know."

He smirked at her. "I would never."

She smirked back at him. She'd had several glasses of champagne at this point, and was feeling rather brazen. She stopped dancing, and he halted with her. She leaned up towards him, bringing her lips to his ear.

"You're trying to seduce me."

He didn't bother denying it. He merely stroked his hand down her back, letting it settle in the dip of her lower back just above her ass, and brushed his lips along her jaw.

"And how's that working out for me?'

Her answering shudder told him all he needed to know, but she continued. "Not as well as you think. You're the one who's been staring at me all night, not the other way around."

He chuckled, pulling back to look her in the eye. "You should know better than to wear that color around vampires, lovely Elena. And your throat," he said, placing a hand on her neck, "is exposed. I can see the blood pulsing under your skin. I would have to be blind, gay and human not to stare at you." Her eyes went wide. "Plus: how would you know I was staring at you if you weren't also staring at me?"

She gulped, and his hand slipped lower on her throat, his thumb brushing across her artery. "I can feel your eyes on me."

"And I can feel yours on me," he countered slyly, his face twisting into a smirk. He turned and guided her off the dance floor, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a waiter's tray in passing, handing one to her. "We've been playing this game for a while, Elena."

"What game?" she asked coyly.

He chuckled, but did not answer, taking a sip of his drink and looking her up and down. He waved to someone behind her, and she turned.

"Elena, this is Adele Prevost, an old friend of mine. I have some things I need to discuss with her husband – I trust she will keep you safe until my return." Before she could protest, he had walked away with a tall, handsome grey-haired man. She frowned.

"Ah, I know how it is, _cherie…_before I met my husband, I was hopelessly in love with Elijah Mikaelson."

She turned to the woman next to her, and was stunned by her beauty. Long hair the color of wheat was braided back from a fine-boned, aristocratic face. Vivid green eyes sat above high rosy cheekbones, and her smile flashed perfectly straight teeth. Her tall, willowy body was draped in a slinky navy blue dress, a slit cut up to her hip revealing one perfect leg the color of cream. Her lips were painted a bright red.

Elena didn't know whether or not to feel jealous – the woman was married, after all. But she mentioned being in love with Elijah…had they…? The question teased her jealous mind.

"I thought vampires didn't get married?" she asked curiously.

The vampire smiled. "They don't, usually. But Henri and I are stuck together for life anyway, so we decided to tie the knot." Her voice was heavily accented.

"Stuck together for life?" Elena inquired, confused.

"_Oui," _she replied. "You see, Elijah turned me long ago, in the fourteenth century; he saved my life, actually. I was dying of the plague. For years after that we were very close, and I watched him throw his life away on his brother's mad quest to break the curse of his werewolf gene. Elijah never saw me as more than his child, of course, whereas I was madly in love with him. In 1492, when the doppelganger Katerina turned herself into a vampire and fled, he disappeared for a while. While he was off the grid I moved back to Paris, where I met Henri. He is my mate."

"Your mate?"

"Sometimes vampires have mates. It is very rare, and we mate for life. I have only met one other mated pair in my life." She smiled wistfully. "I am very happy with mine."

From a distance Elena watched Elijah speak with Henri. They seemed to be talking about something important. "I'd never heard of that before. I dated a vampire for quite a while, and he never mentioned it to me."

"You dated a vampire?" Adele asked skeptically. "That is unusual, for a human. Many vampires do not know that the mating bond exists, or only believe it is a myth. If he is relatively young, it is likely that he'd never heard of it. Interesting, though, that he should find companionship in a human."

Elena shrugged. It was not said in a demeaning tone, and she was not offended by it.

"We dated for almost two years…then I sort of fell in love with his brother, and then Klaus ruined things…" She sighed. "It didn't really work out. Obviously."

Adele grinned. "And now you are in love with the oldest living vampire on earth. Complicated, no?"

Elena frowned. "I'm not in love with Elijah," she denied. Of course she wasn't! That would be absurd.

Adele merely chuckled and sipped at her champagne. "No, of course not," she said teasingly. "How silly of me."

"I'm not!" The statement came out as a squeak. She sounded ridiculous to her own ears. She fumed. "I mean, I am attracted to him, and he's great, he really is, but he's a Mikaelson. That will never happen."

Adele raised an eyebrow at her. "Henri and I have already placed bets."

High spots of color rose on Elena's cheeks. "Sorry?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, _cherie," _the French woman said, blowing her off. "Just…enjoy your night. See? Here they come. I am going to dance with my husband…it was lovely talking to you, Elena. Perhaps we will meet again, yes?"

Henri nodded to her in passing, his eyes glittering with something akin to mischief. Her mouth hung open.

Bets?

A gentle hand came up to push at her chin, closing her jaw. She turned to Elijah and blushed, feeling more hot and bothered by the second.

He held out his hand. "One last dance before we head home?" he asked, bowing.

She downed the rest of her champagne in one gulp. She would need it.

She nodded. "It would be my pleasure."

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The dance helped to calm her nerves a little, but it was only temporary. When they got in the hired car to go home, they returned full force, and when Elijah unlocked the door to the apartment, she almost retched with anxiety.

They were alone. Completely and utterly alone.

She brushed past him into the apartment, going immediately to the liquor cabinet (she had discovered it earlier in her exploration, and had secretly gulped down some rum straight from the bottle before the ball to boost her confidence) and pulling down a bottle of scotch and a glass. She poured herself some and continued to face the wall as she shot it back, the dark liquor smooth and strong as it ran down her throat. It went immediately to her head.

Good. Having her head spin because of alcohol was a far cry better than having it spin because of Elijah.

Unfortunately for her, the respite didn't last long.

"Do I make you nervous, Miss Gilbert? You've imbibed quite a bit of alcohol this evening."

Her skin quivered when she felt his cool hand on her back, his knuckles skimming down her spine to her tailbone. She gasped, frozen, when his fingers dipped under the material, brushing over the lace waistband of her scarlet thong.

"Elijah," she warned, her voice breathier than she would have liked.

"Elena," he mimicked mockingly. His second hand came to join its brother, and they slid around to her sides, gliding up under the silky material of her gown to rest below her chest. His fingers pressed against her ribcage and his thumbs skimmed over the sides of her breasts. She quivered. Her body was tingling under his touch and her temperature was sky high.

She closed her eyes and moved her head to the side as his lips found the junction between her neck and shoulder. She did not stop him when his hands traveled up to push the straps of her dress off her shoulders, and did not protest when he pinned her arms to her sides and slid her dress down her body. It pooled at her feet.

One of his hands slid down her stomach and he pulled her hips back against him. She gasped at the hard bulge of his erection pressed against her ass. Her breath hitched when his fingers dipped quickly into the waistband of her thong and ran along her slit. She moaned. She hadn't realized how aroused she was until he touched her, spreading her juices around her womanhood. His other hand went to her breast, tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Oh, God. She knew his hands would feel like this.

"You've been wet for me all night," he whispered seductively in her ear. His voice was pure sin, dripping from his tongue like poisoned honey. Smooth and sweet – but deadly. "You can't deny it," he continued. "I could smell your desire from across the room, Elena. It's been making me crazy all night."

She whimpered as his index finger circled her sensitive bud, teasing but not satisfying. "Elijah, please. Don't tease me."

She gasped as his fingernail raked over her clit, and then let out a strangled groan when his middle and index fingers pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body.

"Who's teasing?" he replied huskily. He thumbed her straining nipple and nipped at the skin of her neck. His fingers started to work her clit in earnest, rubbing it in circles with a steady pressure and speed. One of her hands went to clutch the edge of the counter, and the other wrapped around the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Two minutes passed, his fingers tirelessly manipulating her clit, and she was coming, screaming his name into the apartment as her body arched and shook and her cum coated his hand. Spots danced in front of her vision as she came down from her high, panting. She resisted the urge to collapse, boneless, to the floor. Instead she pulled his hand from inside her panties and turned to face him, keeping her face expressionless.

She pushed him back away from her body and side stepped him easily. Trailing her hand lightly along his bicep, she walked past him. He growled.

She may have been a child compared to his years of experience, but she knew how to play. The game never changed.

She shucked her thong and stepped out of it, and she tugged out the pins in her hair on her way to his bedroom, looking over her shoulder at him as she did so.

She hoped he would take the hint.

Lucky for her, Elijah wasn't a fool.

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He could hear her heart pounding, struggling to come down from the high of her orgasm.

This time, he wanted to look at her face as she came.

He wanted to taste her. And why deny himself the pleasure? He smirked, following her into the bedroom, tugging at his bowtie and toeing off his shoes. He would have her screaming his name for hours on end. He had been patient these past few weeks, and now was the time to collect. By morning the name Salvatore would mean nothing to her.

She stood facing him next to his bed, stark naked and beautiful, shaking her hair out from it's confines. He strode over to her, looked at her for a long, lingering moment, and kissed her.

It was the first real kiss they'd shared, he realized; they had always been interrupted before. He groaned into her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers. He kissed her with all the skill he'd acquired over the past millennium, and poured all of the passion he felt for her into it.

She moaned into his mouth and her hands went to his shoulders, pushing his jacket down; he threw it somewhere across the room – he didn't care where. Her fingers were deftly undoing his buttons and his hands went to his belt. In a matter of seconds they had his clothes off.

Her small hand squeezed his hard length, her thumb brushing over the tip. He groaned, and tipped his head back, allowing her to stroke him a few times, letting her come to terms with his size, before he grabbed her by the waist and threw her on the bed.

Maneuvering in between her legs, he spread her thighs to his hungry gaze. Without hesitation he leaned forward and swiped at her slit with his tongue.

He closed his eyes. "God, you taste like heaven," he whispered. She groaned and threaded her fingers through his hair as he began lapping at her core, tasting her juices like a starved man.

He brought his hand up to test her slick channel, working a finger into her snug heat as he continued to languidly stroke her clit with his tongue. She was _tight._

"Elijah," she whined impatiently. Her voice had him climbing up her body to claim her lips, sucking her tongue into his mouth. Her legs spread wider to accommodate him, and he positioned himself at her entrance.

"I'm going too fast," he whispered against her lips. "But I can't wait any longer."

"You can go slow later," she replied, thrusting her hips against his wantonly. "Now I just need you inside of me. I've been waiting for weeks for you to make love to me, Elijah. Please."

Her words had him pushing forward and sinking into her wet sheath until he was lodged in to the hilt. They both groaned. Finally, they were joined as one – they had only been dancing around each other for a month, but to them it felt like years.

She threw her head back and gasped when he started to move against her, his thrusts strong and sure in the way that only hundreds of years of experience can afford. She hiked a leg up higher around his waist and moaned.

"God, Elijah, why didn't we do this sooner?" she breathed, her hands running through his hair and down across his back. She lifted her hips up to meet his, pulling him deeper inside of her.

He chuckled into her neck, nipping playfully at her skin. "Honor," he replied, giving her an extra hard thrust.

"Fuck honor," she groaned, closing her eyes as he stroked in and out of her in a steady rhythm that he knew would have her pleasure building in no time. "Crazy Original vampire sex and honor don't belong together."

He was greedy – he wanted to see how many times he could make her come in one night. Impatient, he leaned back and lifted her legs to his shoulder. He grinned. "You're right, of course," he replied, kissing her ankle, "but I had to keep up appearances."

Without further ado he thrust into her hard, relishing her cries of pleasure. He set a brutal pace this time, the shoves of his cock into her pussy demanding and ruthless. He watched, fascinated, as his shaft disappeared into her wet cunt over and over again, her fluids coating his thick length. Fuck. He really should have done this sooner – she was perfect.

It was only a matter of minutes before she began chanting his name, her head thrashing from side to side and her eyes squeezed closed. Her walls started to flutter around him, and he increased the pace of his thrusts, the head of his cock hitting her womb with each plunge into her tight sheath.

"Elena," he groaned, feeling close to completion himself. "Look at me."

She did as he commanded, staring at him through hooded eyes the color of mahogany. He brought a hand down to her clit and vibrated his thumb against it.

"Come for me, beautiful Elena," he ordered, his pressure on her clit and the surety of his thrusts intensifying. "Let go and come for me."

Seconds later she was keening and clutching desperately at the sheets, and he watched her eyes go blind as her channel tightened impossibly around his cock. He shuddered as she milked him, and let his orgasm wash over him, shooting his seed into her warm, pliant body. Stars exploded behind his eyes.

It had been far too long since he'd engaged in any sort of carnal pleasure. And now that he'd had a taste of Elena Gilbert…well, let's just say that the doppelganger would not be resting any time soon.

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When their orgasms had faded, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the master bathroom. Setting her down and turning on the shower, he tugged her under the spray with him.

Elena sighed. Hot damn. That was the best sex of her life.

Little did she know it was only uphill from there.

It took less than a minute under the hot water for his hands to start wandering her body again – good Lord; did the man have no recovery time? – and less than a minute for her body to start humming again under his attentions. He played her like a tuning fork, his hands lathering her body with soap, circling her breasts and running between her legs and down the cleft of her bottom. She gasped when she felt his full erection against her stomach.

"Don't you have a refractory period?" she asked as he hoisted her up into his arms.

He smirked as his hard cock slid into her body. Her lady parts were sore, but they still welcomed the intrusion, eager to have his manhood buried deeply within her again.

"You tell me," he said teasingly. "Do I?"

Her head thunked back against the glass wall of the shower. "No. I suppose not."

He chuckled and brought his head down to suck at a spot on her neck. She clutched at his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his skin, as he began to move, his hands kneading the flesh of her buttocks. His cock stroked languidly in and out of her, his pace unhurried.

Just because he was gentler and slower with her than he was before did not mean the sex was any less pleasurable. It was a different kind of pleasure: a slow, steady burn that spread through her body, leaving her tingling. Her toes curled, and she felt herself climbing again towards the inevitable peak of her climax. How did he do it? She had never come so quickly before as she did with him, or so violently.

She could not control the moans that came from her mouth; she sounded wanton to her own ears, but she did not know how to stop it. Her body was on fire. With each thrust his pubic bone bumped against her clit, and his cock was so long, and so thick… Her breath was coming in short pants, her eyes focused blurrily on his. He looked so calm…how was he so calm? Eager to destroy him as he was destroying her, she brought her face to his and sucked his lower lip into her mouth.

She succeeded; his eyes closed and he groaned into her mouth, his hands squeezing her ass and his hips thrusting sharply against hers. Her breath hitched.

"Elijah," she moaned. Her mouth slid down to his chin, kissing the cleft there, and she brushed her lips along his jaw to nuzzle the skin behind his ear.

"Elena." His voice was hoarse and strained. She could sense he was close; so was she.

"Come with me," she whispered in his ear. "I want to feel you."

He groaned and obeyed, filling her channel with his seed. The warmth of his cum inside her vagina had the wave of her orgasm washing over her, engulfing her in its heat. Her legs trembled around his waist as she shook apart around him, moaning as the pleasure of her climax tore through her body. It was longer lasting than her first two orgasms, multiple waves of pleasure crashing over her and making her writhe in coital bliss.

He was shuddering against her, his lips on her neck. She felt his fangs scrape her skin. "Do it, Elijah," she commanded, baring her neck to him.

She thought he'd refuse for the sake of not hurting her, but she had no sooner issued the invitation than his fangs were buried within the tender flesh of her throat. She hiccupped in pain, but the sting in her neck only intensified and drew out the effects of her orgasm. She had never expected that being fed on would be something pleasurable; but then again, she'd never had much experience with it, either. The only times she'd been bitten had been painful and done in acts of violence.

One of his hands left her ass and came up to cradle the nape of her neck, supporting her head as he continued to drink from her. When she felt her eyes drifting closed he pulled away. She brought her hand up to trace her fingers over the veins underneath his eyes. He let his vampire visage fade, and she leaned forward to kiss his bloodstained mouth.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, staring into her eyes and setting her gently back on her feet. "You didn't have to let me do that."

"I know," she replied, smiling and slipping from his arms. "I…wanted you to." Stepping under the shower spray and pulling her hair to the side, she let the water cleanse her skin. Blood dripped down onto the white tile and was washed down the drain.

She sighed as her lover's arms encircled her from behind and let her head fall back onto his shoulder. He nuzzled her hair. The hot water warmed their bodies and they simply stood there for a few minutes in each other's embrace, satisfied.

Eventually the water turned lukewarm, and she reached out reluctantly to turn it off. She was sated, and tired. The prospect of a warm bed and a body to curl up next to appealed to her.

She stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, noticing that the tiles were not heated like they were in Mykonos. She had grown used to the luxury and she shivered, wrapping a towel around her figure and making a beeline for the bed.

She was stopped before she could climb on top of it; a pair of male hands snaked around to undo her towel, removing it from her body. She felt him press against her back, and she groaned.

"Really, Elijah? Can't this wait until morning?" she whined, her body warring between desire and exhaustion.

"Mmm…no," he replied simply, his hands kneading her breasts.

Using his hands he quickly worked her up into a frenzy again, juices pouring from her sex with her newfound arousal and coating his fingers and running down her thighs. She did not have the strength to protest when he pushed her up onto the bed and entered her roughly from behind.

"Oh, _fuck,"_ she breathed out as he pushed her shoulders into the mattress and slammed into her – _hard._ It felt like his cock was reaching halfway to her heart, prodding against her womb with every deep thrust of his hips.

She squealed when she felt a finger press against her puckered asshole, slipping inside. She gasped at the unfamiliar feeling.

"Has anyone ever taken you here, Elena?" he purred from behind her, continuing to shove his cock into her without abandon.

She shook her head, heat flooding her cheeks. She'd never been touched back there. She didn't want to be; or so she'd thought. She wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"No?" he said. He hummed, but pulled his finger from her back door. "Another time, then…you won't regret it, I can assure you."

She shook her head. "I don't think so," she protested weakly. It sounded pathetic to her own ears. At this point, she admitted to herself, she would let him do just about anything to her body.

He chuckled darkly, his hands grabbing her hips and pulling her back to meet him thrust for thrust. "We'll see."

Each plunge of his cock into her supple body had her crying out in pleasure. She'd never been penetrated so deeply; had never been fucked so recklessly. He was moving with inhuman speed now, urged on by her hiccups and breathy moans. Her head and shoulders were pressed to the bed, her arms outstretched and clutching the bedspread as he angled her hips higher up towards him. She was close, so close…

She flew apart under him, her pussy clenching tightly around his cock – but he did not stop. She sobbed in pleasure as he continued to move above her at a breakneck pace, fucking her into the mattress. As soon as her orgasm passed another one followed right on its heels, and the thrusts of his hips became more erratic. The slap of skin on skin and their simultaneous moans were the only sound that filled the room as they came together as one, their sexual fluids mixing in a cocktail that ran down between her legs.

He leaned down to kiss her spine before he pulled out of her and flopped down onto his back. She collapsed onto her stomach, her face pressed to the sheets, trying to catch her breath.

"Please tell me that I'm allowed to go to sleep now," she groaned into the mattress, her blood pumping in her ears and her body tingling all over. "You have to remember that I'm human, Elijah."

He chuckled, folding his arms behind his head. He was the picture of arrogance. She scowled at him. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Elena. You'll be fine. You'd be amazed at the abuse the human body can handle." The look he gave her was sly and full of heat; his eyes were filled with the promise of carnal pleasures she could only guess at. She shivered; what had she gotten herself into? Had she really thought she could handle an Original?

She scooted up next to him, and he helped her climb under the covers. "Not so. My nerve endings are completely shot. I can't feel my legs. There may be some broken bones, too; I won't know the extent of the damage until I regain the feeling in my extremities." She turned away from him and tried to keep her voice serious, but she could not keep the smile from her face as he snuggled up behind her and nuzzled her neck affectionately.

"Well when you do regain feeling in your extremities, let me know…that's how I'll know you're ready for more," he purred seductively, smirking against her skin and running a hand over her waist to tweak her nipple.

"Elijah!" she scolded, slapping at his hand. She giggled when he pinched her on the hip in response. "Stop it. I _mean_ it."

He sighed into her hair and kissed her temple. "Very well, Miss Gilbert; if you insist." He scooted back a tad to put a few inches in between them – which she was grateful for, because she liked her space while sleeping – but kept his hand on her waist, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over her ribs. "Goodnight, sweet Elena."

"Goodnight, Elijah," she yawned, already slipping into sleep, tired from sex and blood loss. Closing her eyes, she drifted into her dreams.

This time, there were no nightmares, only soft lips and laughing brown eyes.

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

**So I am exhausted…I wrote this in a matter of a few hours after the funeral of a friend to get my mind off of things. I didn't intend to update so soon – but I hope you enjoyed it. **

**More smut and Elejah in Paris in the next chapter, as well as a hint of broody Stefan and possibly more Klaroline…I haven't decided how fast I want to progress yet. Every time I start writing with certain goals in mind my intentions end up flying out the window and my story morphs into something else entirely. That's why I prefer writing one-shots…I don't have to worry about what's coming after, LOL. Sort of an author's wham, bam, thank you ma'am (I've always enjoyed one-night-stands, and I suppose it's carried over to my writing, haha). So this story has been tough to follow through on.**

**Thanks for all the continued reviews and support! (Electricsymphony and siberia21, I love you dearly.)**

**xoxoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

"It doesn't matter how hard you stare at that glass – it doesn't have the answers you're looking for."

Stefan looked up from where he was swirling scotch in his glass, his eyes meeting those of the pretty bartender. Green clashed with brown.

He cleared his throat. She reminded him slightly of Elena – willowy body, heart-shaped face, dark eyes, dark hair. Her skin was several shades fairer, though, and her brown hair was cropped into a pixie cut that only served to highlight her femininity. Her lips were stained red. And her eyes: the liquid brown orbs were unusually large and tilted ever so slightly, and rimmed with heavy black lashes. There was a spark in them, though, that Elena's lacked: something mischievous and maybe just a little bit dangerous. Those eyes held secrets; secrets that hinted at what was sure to be an interesting past.

"Yeah, well, if you have any other suggestions, I'm all ears."

"Rough day?"

He sent her a tight-lipped smile. "Rough year."

Her laugh was airy and tinkling, like wind chimes. "Ah, yes. You look like you've been brooding for over a century, though."

He stiffened at the sly look in her eyes.

"Relax, vampire," she drawled, polishing a glass. "I can spot your kind from a mile away. I'm not going to out you."

He forced himself to relax, lifting his glass in a mocking toast. "Thanks then, I guess."

She smirked at him. "What's your name?"

"Stefan."

"I'm Morgan." He took the hand she offered, shaking it. "So, what's got you so worked up?"

…_just know that I love you. You will always be my first love, Stefan. You will forever hold a piece of my heart, no matter where I am or whom I end up with. _

"Oh, you know…" he replied, his words a little slurred from the alcohol but noticeably sardonic, "girl drama."

She hummed, pouring him another drink. "Is she pretty?"

"Beautiful."

"I bet she's a bitch, though."

He took a gulp of scotch, relishing in the burn. "That's just it, though…she's not. She has one of the purest souls I've ever met. She's the definition of radiant."

Morgan winced. "Ouch. Those are the worst kinds. You can't even hate them, can you?"

"No," he replied bitterly. "No matter how much you want to."

_I know things have been tense between us this last year. You sacrificed yourself to save your brother, and you paid the ultimate price. I wanted to fight for you forever, Stefan, but I wasn't strong enough, and for that I am sorry. When you threatened to drive me off Wickery Bridge, something in me died – the hopes that I had that we could rekindle our relationship were dashed. You broke a part of me that night, Stefan – but I've come to understand that _you_ were already broken, and the only piece you felt like you had left to pick up was revenge. I wish I hadn't failed you so thoroughly. And I wish I hadn't let you push me even further towards Damon, but I would be lying if I said I didn't fall in love with him too._

_I don't know how things got so screwed up between the three of us. Sometimes I wish I had never met either of you; and then I realize just how much I would have missed. You brought me back to life after my parents died. You introduced me to new parts of myself that I may have never discovered otherwise. You offered support when I felt completely alone. You entrusted your heart to me, and you held mine in your hand. You always have. Despite my love for Damon, nothing can compare to the feelings I harbored – and still harbor – for you._

_I can't promise always and forever. I won't. It would be cruel to both of us. Even if I had stayed, I think we both know that things between us were too damaged to try to repair._

_I hope you can forgive me. I want you to move on with your life. Please, be there for Damon when he needs you – because he _will_ need you. And…I selfishly hope that you will remember me fondly and without bitterness. Someday I hope I can see you again. _

"Love is life's biggest curveball." Morgan flashed him a brilliant smile. "But it tends to offer up the greatest opportunities for a clean slate. Maybe it's time you start fresh."

He shrugged, sipping at his drink. With enough liquor, he could numb the deep slice that love had created in his heart. "Perhaps." He stuck a hand in his pocket to finger the worn piece of paper there.

_Love,_

_Elena_

He thought about her soft hair, her warm eyes, her compassionate nature. He remembered the deep love that they'd shared, and his heart wept.

And he couldn't help but wonder: where was she now?

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_Holy. Fucking. God._

"Fuck! _Elijah!"_

Her lover hummed in response, his hands tightening on her hips as he guided her movements, lifting her and rocking her back and forth as she rode him at a leisurely pace.

He lay like a bronze god beneath her, looking completely at ease, grinning at her like the cat that ate the canary. She wanted to swipe that smug smile right off his face; he was rocking her world, and he was well aware of it.

She could feel the coil tightening in her belly, could feel the familiar tingle of her impending orgasm spread underneath her skin. Arching her back she changed her angle, taking him in deeper. The arrogant smirk on his face faltered. She leaned back and slid her hands up her body, cupping her breasts as she rode him into oblivion. Now it was her turn to smirk; the expression on his face was priceless.

His hands gripped her hips to the point that she'd have bruises later, and he rolled his hips up to meet hers, his cock sliding in and out of her slick channel at an increasingly fast pace. Soon enough she couldn't keep up with him, and he flipped them over without missing a beat, driving into her with renewed vigor. She could tell he was close to losing control, and tightened her walls around him, letting out a breathy laugh when he moaned. He silenced her with a rough kiss, growling into her mouth.

Elena was exhausted; he'd woken her up three separate times during the night, ensuring that she got very little sleep, and it was currently only eight o'clock in the morning. She'd awoken a few minutes ago to the feeling of his fingers between her legs.

Best. Wake up call. Ever.

Despite her body's tiredness and her slight hangover, she would not stop him for anything. A nuclear apocalypse could hit Paris and she would insist on staying in bed with Elijah until her last breath.

Elena Gilbert had found a new hobby: fucking the brains out of Elijah Mikaelson.

He licked a trail up her neck as he pounded recklessly into her tight body, and she turned her head to the side, her breath hitching in anticipation. He growled, a low rumble that vibrated against her chest, and sank his fangs deep into the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

It was the catalyst for her orgasm, the push she needed to tip over into the sea of pleasure that awaited her. Stars exploded behind her eyes and shudders wracked her body to the point that her limbs went weak. The long pulls of blood he took from her throat left her head spinning. Vaguely she felt his orgasm tear through him, felt his cock pulse inside of her and the warmth of his seed bathe her inner walls.

He collapsed against her, licking the puncture wounds in her throat until they began to clot. He bit into his wrist and brought it up to her mouth, silently urging her to drink. She felt light-headed and weak and, with a grimace, gulped down a couple of mouthfuls of the Original's rich coppery blood. The sting of the marks on her neck receded and she felt the blood she had lost replenish itself within her body. She sighed, resting her head back on the bloodstained pillow.

"Good morning." His voice was laced with amusement, still gravelly with sleep and arousal.

"Good morning," she replied good-naturedly, absentmindedly stroking a hand through his hair. He sighed against her collarbone and reluctantly rolled off of her, easing the pressure on her chest.

"Ready to see Paris?"

"Mmmm," she purred, stretching her arms over her head. "Can we shower and have breakfast first? I'm starving. And I feel gross from rolling around in bed with you all night. I long for cleanliness."

"That depends," he teased, rolling onto his side and running a hand over her flat stomach. Muscles quivered under his touch. "When you say 'we,' does that mean I get to join you in aforementioned shower?"

She hummed. "I think that could be arranged." She hardly recognized her own voice, low and husky and oozing sex. It was like overnight she had turned into some sort of…siren.

She had never imagined Elijah Mikaelson, proper and polite Original brother number one, with such an insatiable sex drive. He was so reserved most of the time, even when he was flirting with her; now it was as if she had unleashed an animal that had been cooped up and was raging to get out. She had opened a can of worms that she would admit she didn't entirely know how to handle. And she hadn't realized just how sex-starved she had been, either, until he'd touched her last night, igniting a spark that now had a steady fire burning low in her belly.

When they climbed off the bed and made their way to the shower she couldn't help but feel slightly self-conscious, her confidence from last night having worn off with the alcohol. He quickly dispelled any thoughts she had, however, by perching her on the shower bench while he knelt between her legs and pleasured her with his mouth.

She would never tell him for fear of his ego getting out of control, but she swore the man was a god. Then again, after a thousand years of bedding women, he had definitely earned the title. His hands, his mouth, his body…all had her yielding to his insistence. And every time she started to think about her own inexperience and insecurities, he would do something that made her feel sexy and wanted.

It was a perfect day for sightseeing: clear and sunny and about 65 degrees. Breakfast was an omelet, a croissant and a café o'lait at the café down the street, and then it was on to the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre, the d'Orsay, and everything else they could fit into a day. Elijah promised they would return, told her not to worry about seeing everything – they had five years, after all.

A little after noon they went back to the apartment for lunch and a "nap" – a nap consisting of Elena's body bent face-down over the kitchen counter with her arms pinned behind her, dress hitched up around her waist and her panties in shreds on the floor. Elijah promised to buy her a hundred more pairs – as long as he got to rip them from her body at least once a day for the next five years. Due to his assault on her body her vocal chords were unable to form coherent words, so she was not able to voice her protests (or her approval – she honestly couldn't tell what was what anymore). The "next five years" part of his statement did not go unnoticed, however; she had not given herself time to think on a long-term…relationship…or whatever this was, with him. The thought that he wanted her for that long, that this wasn't just a one-off for him, had her heart fluttering giddily.

She was amazed at how much she enjoyed his presence; things had always been easy between them, but now that it was just the two of them they really had a chance to get to know each other. They talked about everything: he had so many stories to share, and she was by no means an idle conversationalist. Her curious young mind came up with questions faster than he could answer them. There was no tension in their interactions, and there was no mention of the mess that had become their lives over the last couple of years. They shared memories and hopes and dreams and ideas with each other, and for the first time in a long time Elena felt like someone was really seeing _her _and appreciating _her;_ he made her feel unique, not just a carbon copy of the two Petrova women who had come before her. Their lives did not define hers. They argued over which gelato flavors were the best, and used it as an excuse to go back for seconds, just to test their theories. They discussed their favorite literature and Frederich Nietzsche and the idiosyncrasies of modern American culture. They laughed when they told each other silly stories about their siblings and their childhoods. She had never expected to become so close to the aloof and mysterious vampire, but by the end of the day she felt like she had known him for years.

And the sex. God, the _sex._ Damon's kiss had been mind-blowing, and Stefan had been a thorough and loving partner, but their passion looked mild compared to Elijah's, and when it came to raw skill…well, there was nothing that could top over a millennium of experience. In addition to the sex, she was also now addicted to the feeling of him drinking from her – it only served to heighten everything and push her to new heights of pleasure. She couldn't count the number of times she had flown apart at his hands.

"I've been meaning to ask for a while now: what does your tattoo mean?"

They lay side by side on the luxurious queen bed, sated and sweaty from their recent round of lovemaking. (Well, _she_ was sweaty; he looked poised as always. Damn vampires.) Spots still blackened her vision and her heart raced as she came down from the high of her orgasm. She tried to even her frantic breathing, turning on her side and splaying a hand across his stomach.

"Ah yes, I was wondering when your curiosity would get the better of you," he said, running his fingers through her hair. "It is called a vegvísir. It's a Nordic rune."

"And what, pray tell, does it mean?" she asked, tracing it with her fingers. "I'm not up to date on my Viking. It wasn't exactly offered as an elective in high school."

He chuckled. "A vegvísir in physical form was a magical staff that was believed to help the bearer find their way through rough weather. A loose translation of the symbol in prose would go something like this: 'If this sign is carried, one will never lose one's way in storms or bad weather, even if the way is not known.' It was tattooed on my chest in my human days – which was significantly more laborious and painful than it is now, I might add – and it was only later, with the invention of modern tattoo technology, that I got it touched up. It is much more refined now than it was back then, as you can imagine." He turned on his side to face her, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her. "Now that I have answered your question, you must answer one of mine."

"Alright, I suppose that's a fair trade," she replied teasingly. "Shoot."

He took her right hand in his, tracing his thumb over her ring finger. "You wear this ring almost everyday; I sense you have an emotional attachment to it. What is its significance?"

She looked down at the ring in question, musing nostalgically. It was a thin band of gold with an empty bracket in the middle where a stone should have been.

"It was my mother's," she said softly, twisting it on her finger. "Her grandmother had given it to her when she was in college, and she wore it everyday." She swallowed, her eyes sad. "She was wearing it when we went off Wickery Bridge that night. When my parents' bodies were recovered, I took it. It used to have an emerald in it, but it was knocked loose in the accident. People ask me all the time why I don't replace it…I like it the way it is, right now. I'll reset it someday – when I'm ready. But not just yet." She gave him a whimsical smile, her eyes far away somewhere.

He brought her hand to his mouth, ghosting his lips over her knuckles. "You'll know when the time is right. There will be a weight that lifts off your heart, when the grief abates and it no longer hurts to think about them. It just takes time, and patience."

Another thing they had in common, Elena thought: they were both old, wise souls. He'd said it better than she could have expressed it herself.

As she kissed him gently on the mouth, their lips sliding together in an age-old dance, she felt another little piece of her heart slip away into his grasp.

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"Where did that come from?"

Caroline jumped in surprise, feeling stupid that she hadn't heard her mother approach her room. She dropped the dress she had been holding against her in the mirror back into its box, quickly sliding the lid back on.

"Um…I bought it."

Even as a vampire she was a terrible liar; that would probably never change. Liz Forbes knew it, too. She arched an eyebrow.

Caroline blushed. "It's part of my birthday present…from Klaus." She held her breath.

Her mother merely cocked her head curiously, her expression otherwise unreadable. "I see. What are the other parts?"

She reluctantly pulled the rest of the gifts from their respective boxes, showing them one by one to her mom. A beautiful bag made of supple Italian leather; a delicate opal bracelet with matching earrings, simple but elegant; the stylish bright red sundress that she was sure would fit just right; and her personal favorite – a small oil painting of a sunrise over the waterfall that gave Mystic Falls its name. Somehow the colors were just right, going beautifully with the colors in her room. It was not signed, but she had known instantly that it was done by Klaus's own hand.

Encased in a separate envelope was a first class plane ticket to Rome, as well as a brief note:

_Caroline – I hope you will accept these birthday gifts as a token of my appreciation of your character. I will not reiterate things that have already been said – you know by now how deeply I care for you. I hold you in the highest regard. Please do me the honor of meeting my family (which includes the lovely Elena) and me in Italy for a tour of Europe this summer. The offer is open ended, of course; you are welcome to stay for an indefinite amount of time or leave whenever you desire. Best wishes on your 18__th__ birthday. –K_

_P.S. Elena helped me pick out the dress. She wishes you a happy birthday._

Liz scrutinized her daughter with narrowed, wary eyes; what she was looking for, Caroline did not know.

"So…" she began nervously. "About this summer…"

She quieted when her mother raised a hand. "You are an adult now, Caroline; you must be responsible for your own choices. I will always be here to guide you when you need me, but the time has come for you to be independent and self-sufficient." She paused. "There are a great many things I could say right now – things that I _want_ to say – but I will resist the urge to launch into my usual motherly spiel. I know you have already made up your mind. So I will simply advise you to proceed with caution."

Caroline gulped and sat on her bed, staring down at the envelope in her hands. "I would be lying if I said I didn't want to see him as much as I want to see Elena; even in light of all the terrible things he's done. Does that make me a terrible person?"

Liz sat next to her on the edge of the bed, tucking a strand of fine blonde hair behind her daughter's ear. "You have always been ruled by two extremes: your heart, and your head. Try not to let your heart run away with you – but don't let your mind get in the way of your happiness." She sighed, looking down into her lap, her mouth drawn into a tight line. "It is hard to forget the things that Klaus has done to this town. But your capacity for forgiveness is unfathomable, Caroline, unlike anyone I've ever known. If anyone has the ability to change him, to draw out the good in him, it is you. As much as I hate Klaus, I love you, and if he ends up being what you want then you have my full support. It is apparent to me that he genuinely loves you, and while I may not like it, I can respect it." She gave Caroline a gentle smile. "And who knows: he may be exactly what you need."

She gave her mother a watery smile. "I'm scared." She wasn't sure exactly what she was referring to – her feelings for Klaus, her trip to Europe, her future as a vampire…maybe all of them.

Liz pulled her into a tight hug, resting her cheek against her daughter's hair. "Me, too, Caroline." She pulled back and met her blue-eyed gaze, a fiery glint in her eyes.

"But when has fear of something ever held _you_ back?"

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Elena rapped at Rebekah's door, entering swiftly and closing it behind her as she heard a muffled "come in" from the other side.

"I come bearing gifts," she said with a grin.

Rebekah patted the bed next to her. "Oh, do tell!"

Elena hesitated for only a split second – how, and when, exactly, had things become so easy between them? – before hopping up onto the giant California King sized bed with the youngest Original.

"Alright, what have you got?"

She pulled out a bottle from where she had been concealing it underneath her jacket. "So Henrik's birthday is coming up…and…well…I may have stolen this from Klaus's not-so-secret stash in his study," she said conspiratorially, biting down on her lower lip.

Rebekah's eyes widened comically. "You didn't!"

She grinned. "Oh, but I _did."_

Rebekah laughed gleefully. "You fit in with this family more and more every day, Elena. I'm impressed. This is one of his best scotches. I knew there had to be a secret stash somewhere, but I figured it would be so well hidden that I would never find it. Bravo!" she exclaimed, clutching the ancient bottle of fine scotch to her chest. "We shall relish every drop."

Elena pulled a box out from her jacket pocket, shedding the layer as she did so. "And…I got this in Paris; sort of as a late birthday present, since you were, you know, staked and all on your actual birthday. You probably have a million things just like it, but I thought they were pretty and unique. Elijah never asked me who it was for, so don't worry, your birthday secret is still safe. And if you don't like them," she said jokingly with a sly shrug, "you are more than welcome to give them to me."

"They're _beautiful."_

Elena flushed with pride. Inside the box were a matching necklace, bracelet and stud earrings, made up of small delicate pearls that were carved into the shape of blooming roses.

They were not yet comfortable hugging each other – Elena honestly wasn't sure if they would ever be able to manage such physical contact – but the look the vampire directed at her doppelganger counterpart told her all she needed to know. Blue eyes glistened with tears of gratitude.

"I figured it had been a while since you'd gotten a birthday present," she said gently. "Thought I'd start to make up for lost time."

Rebekah fastened the necklace around her neck, running her hand over the string of pearls that stretched across her collarbone. "Thank you, Elena. I _mean _it." Moisture coated her thick eyelashes. "I know we haven't had the best track record – after you daggered me I felt betrayed and hurt and downright murderous, even though deep down I know you did it for the right reasons."

Elena winced at the memory. "Yeah, about that –"

The blonde cut her off. "It's fine, Elena. After a thousand years I have perfected the art of holding a grudge, believe you me," she said jokingly. "But you are, by far, the hardest person to hate of all time. The first couple of weeks living with you was rough for both of us, but I think at that point our negativity towards each other was just habit more than anything. And you are just so nice to me; you never hesitated when I finally came around and extended an olive branch of sorts – you just took it and treated me as if we'd never been at odds at all, like we had always been friends. You have been gracious and kind, and it has never felt forced. I wonder at how completely guileless you are, how you never for a minute hesitate to do the right thing by people, even if they are cruel to you. And thinking to buy me something for my belated birthday…it's been centuries since I've been on the receiving end of such a thoughtful gesture, even from my brothers. So just…thank you. They are wonderful." Rebekah paused, suddenly giving her a sly look from underneath her lashes. "How you managed to think of me at all with your hands full with my charming elder brother, I don't know. I'm surprised he even let you out of the apartment. Both of you seemed a lot less tense when you returned yesterday. Exactly how much sex did you two _have,_ anyway?"

Elena felt her face flush like never before. "We didn't…we…uh…"

She felt like sinking into the floor. The look on Rebekah's face was one of pure deviousness. Lying seemed pointless. She focused on a loose thread in the comforter, a slight smirk on her face as she recalled her time in the City of Love.

"A _lot."_

00000000

The excitement he expected to feel upon piercing her vein with the needle was strangely absent. In fact, all he felt while he watched the deep crimson liquid spill into the vial was…disappointment.

Somehow things had changed. He still wanted to create hybrids, yes; despite how much Klaus loved his family, he did not want to be the only one of his kind to walk the earth, forever alone in the sense that no one would understand him.

But as the last couple of months had passed, all he felt was a growing awareness of how blind he had been to his own family. The doppelganger had brought them together in a way that they hadn't been in over a millennium. She and Rebekah had become fast friends and, dare he say, partners in crime (yes, he was aware of that missing bottle of scotch in his collection, and had a good idea of who to blame). His beloved baby sister, who had been selfish, petulant and resentful for hundreds of years, was joyful, fun to be around, and as vibrantly beautiful as ever. Kol delighted in Elena's company, seeing her as a worthy debate adversary and an endless target for his jesting; she was a good sport about it, too. His youngest brother, renowned for his volatile and sociopathic nature, hadn't killed anyone in over a month, and, though Klaus wasn't sure and would never say it out loud, he suspected it had everything to do with pleasing the dark-haired girl he now saw as a sister.

Of course she and Elijah fucked _all the fucking time,_ which was annoying to everyone else in the house that possessed vampire ears, but she had changed his older brother for the better. She had cracked open that hard, unrelenting shell that he'd worn for the past few centuries, discarding it as if he hadn't spent _years_ perfecting it. He would always be proper, polite, moral Elijah; but he was so much more relaxed and no longer hid behind his serious facades. The sense of humor Klaus remembered from their days as humans returned, and he had never seen his eldest brother smile so much as he did now. His newfound easygoing nature was thoroughly rubbing off on Klaus; ever so slowly the hybrid felt the oppressive weight of a thousand years of misery lift from his heart. It was barely perceptible, but it was tangible enough to make him nervous.

Klaus didn't like change.

He thought about Caroline often – too often. The blonde was never far from his mind. In the past, time and distance had only served to diminish any feelings he had for women he somewhat cared about, as few and far between as they were; with the elusive Miss Forbes it only made him desire her more.

Well, perhaps not so elusive. She had kissed him after all – _twice. _Of her own accord. All he could do now was hope she liked the gifts he'd sent for her birthday and would be waiting for him in Rome when the time came.

She made him anxious. Why?

Because, unlike ever before, he would be hopelessly in love with her regardless of her acceptance or rejection of his advances. He would wait for her for a lifetime, and a lifetime after that, and one after that. He could spend centuries pining after the young blonde vampire. Klaus was not a particularly patient man, and he did not make a habit of _pining._ He did not _pine._ Which was why his obsession with Caroline Forbes was so worrisome.

She was his greatest weakness. She was the only thing on earth that could bring the great immortal hybrid Niklaus Mikaelson to his knees.

"Niklaus."

He jolted, his mind clearing. He cleared his throat. "Yes?"

Sweet doe eyes looked into his, filled with amusement and…affection? "As much as I _love_ having a needle jammed into my arm, your siblings are waiting patiently for us to join them at the dinner table, and I, for one, actually survive on regular ole' human food. So maybe we could wrap this up?"

He smirked. "With a ribbon, love."

He slid the needle from her arm as gently as he could, putting the vial of precious blood into the drawer of his desk. As per their routine he pricked his finger and squeezed a couple of drops of blood into her parted mouth to heal her. She made a face every time indicating her displeasure, but she never protested. It was funny how their relationship had progressed within the span of three months…she trusted him inexplicably with her life – and in return, he trusted her with a piece of himself. She was like family to him now, but somehow different; sometimes he wondered if he felt closer to her than he did to his siblings simply because she _hadn't_ been related to him for a millennium. They would never acknowledge their growing feelings for each other, of course; one had to keep up appearances, after all. But she sometimes dropped the facade when she referred to him as 'Niklaus', and he accidentally slipped when he tugged at the ends of her hair affectionately in passing. The connection was there, under all of the denial, and only got stronger every day as the mutual resentment and mistrust steadily faded away into a dull throbbing ache in the backs of their minds.

"There we are, sweetheart, all done," he said, flashing his dimples at her. "I sense you have something else you wish to discuss with me, however."

She fidgeted in her seat and pulled something out of her jacket pocket, handing it to him. He turned it over in his palm. It was a postcard; one she had picked up on their trip to Belize last month. It was addressed to Jeremy, a brief and happy note scrawled on the back, just letting him know she was well and that she missed him.

"Missing baby brother, are we?"

She frowned. "I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask. The worst you could do is say no; I'll hardly die."

He read it over a couple of times, but found nothing questionable hidden in the two sentences written on the back. There was nothing that hinted at their main home in Greece, nor at their current location: his house in San Francisco. He shrugged.

"I find nothing…objectionable," he said slowly, almost reluctantly. He had almost forgotten she even had a family back home, so used was he to her presence. It had him feeling almost…_jealous._ He was notoriously possessive of his family members, and now she was no different. He quickly shoved it down, irritated at his own emotion. "I suppose I'll allow it. I'll mail it tomorrow morning."

The smile she sent him was radiant. He shifted uncomfortably at the tears of gratitude in her expressive brown eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

No other words were needed; once upon a time the interaction between them would have been awkward, but the tenseness had abated into something a lot more manageable and a lot less unpleasant.

He tucked the postcard into the back pocket of his jeans and helped her from her seat. "Dinner?"

She hummed, rubbing her belly. "Please – before my stomach stages a small rebellion."

00000000

He did not realize his own nervous anticipation until the tension lifted from his body. He felt weightless, like he could push off from the ground and float into the sky.

She had come.

She was as radiant as ever in a stylish red dress, a white cardigan, and sandals, her trademark aviator sunglasses holding her hair out of her face. She spotted him immediately and flashed him a shy but sunny smile.

It was the sundress he'd given her for her birthday, and elegant opal earrings hung from her ears.

His heart soared. He realized belatedly that he had never known what it was to truly love a woman before now.

"Good trip?" He could have easily had the driver take her bags, but he took them from her himself. He led them away from the terminal.

Her voice was nervous. "Yes, thank you. One thing I definitely don't miss from being human: jet lag."

He chuckled, loading her bags into the trunk of the limo. "One of the perks of being undead, love." He opened the car door for her, and blue eyes met blue-green. Klaus smiled; it was a natural smile, not at all forced, something he had been doing more and more lately.

"I'm glad you came, Caroline."

"Me, too."

"_Welcome to Rome."_

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

**Tah dah! The next chapter will be the last. I'll update soon! Thanks for reading and reviewing! **

**xoxoxo**


	9. Chapter 9

**So this is my last chapter, y'all – thank you so much for your continued support. I never expected it to be such a hit, but I'm so happy you all enjoyed it. As I've said before, multi-chapter fics are a lot harder for me, so I really struggled with it, but I'm glad I took the time to write "Propositions" and I'm proud of myself for sticking with it, lol. **

**I will go back to my usual one-shots for a little while, as I have several that have been nagging at the back of my mind, but I am toying with the idea of a short sequel to "Splash" featuring complicated Kolena and Elejah relationships. Idk yet. Let me know what you think. **

**Also, if any of you have any specific ideas, whether for one-shots or a multi-chapter piece, feel free to bounce them off of me at any time (no Stelena-centric plots, though). I also love reading and editing other writers' work, so if any of you are interested in having me read over your material I would be happy to do so – just send me a PM and I will give you my email address. (A warning: I am a very thorough editor, annoyingly so, but as a result I am very popular among all of my friends who are still in college, lol. I am the difference between a C and an A+ on their papers.)**

**Anyway, I'm sort of sad that this story has come to an end, but I hope you enjoy this fluffy last chapter and be **_**honest**_** with your final reviews! **

**:D**

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_**December 25, approximately 4 and a half years later**_

_**Somewhere in the Irish countryside**_

"You. Are. _INSUFFERABLE!"_

Elijah immediately backed out of the kitchen and returned to the living room, barely avoiding the sizzling wrathful energy that crackled around one very frustrated witch.

"Come now, Bunny, I'm not that bad, and you know it. Look, I even got you a Christmas present. I put a lot of thought into it, too, so you better pretend to like it. You'll have to be very convincing."

Elijah peered through the doorway, wanting to refresh his coffee but unwilling to put himself in harm's way. The little Bennett witch's anger was already fading into curiosity. She was staring at the wrapped box in his youngest brother's outstretched hands.

"I even wrapped it myself," Kol said proudly.

"Yes, that much is apparent," Bonnie said sarcastically, her tone scathing as she plucked at the haphazard wrapping paper that had been messily secured with absurd amounts of scotch tape.

Kol scowled. "Well, go on and open it, then. In the living room," he added, trying and failing not to smirk as she snatched it greedily from his grasp. She blew past Elijah into the den, a poorly concealed smile on her face.

His younger brother followed, grabbing the coffee pot on the way and silently filling Elijah's mug on his way back through the door. Elijah smirked at him.

"A Christmas present? Really?"

Kol scowled, but shifted restlessly. "Don't say it. Don't even _think _it. I wanted to include her in the festivities, that's all. It will make Elena happy."

He snorted, sipping his coffee. "If you insist, brother." He held his hands up in mock surrender as Kol growled threateningly. "Not another word."

He turned, leaning against the doorframe, and surveyed the scene before him.

The tree was massive. Caroline had insisted on them cutting it down themselves – which really meant he and Klaus had been drafted into doing it, grumbling the whole way. The perky blonde, the resident doppelganger, and his little sister had taken to decorating it with relish. Elijah had to admit that it was beautiful – Miss Forbes certainly knew what she was doing.

Matt sat next to Elena on the rug by the fireplace, heads bent together as they giggled over some old inside joke. Rebekah sat contentedly next to them on the loveseat, sharing a blanket with Caroline. Bonnie inhabited one armchair and Kol stood behind her, and Elijah sat down next to his half-brother on the couch. Klaus reached over and poured some Irish cream into his eldest brother's coffee without being asked, and Elijah chuckled.

"We are in Ireland after all, brother. It's only fitting," Klaus said with a smirk, taking a sip of his own beverage. The hybrid then leaned over the arm of the couch and added a splash to Jeremy's hot cocoa when his back was turned.

The younger Gilbert sibling sat cross-legged on the floor next to the tree, playing the role of official gift distributor. They had already unwrapped presents for an hour, but there was still a mountain of them that remained under the tree. Elijah suspected they would be here 'til noon, at least.

He sipped at his coffee and watched curiously as Bonnie opened her gift from Kol. She was alternately glancing suspiciously between the box and its giver, eyes narrowed as if suspecting some sort of trick. Elijah himself was unsure of what Kol was playing at…they had come into contact on several occasions over the past two years, after Klaus finally allowed her to visit Elena, and Kol had immediately launched into the role of obnoxious tormentor. Bonnie was no longer outright hostile to him in return, but there was still a very palpable tension between the two; it was simply morphing into a _different_ kind of tension. Elijah knew his youngest brother well enough to know that the constant teasing was just his way of showing interest – in a lot of ways, Kol was still an adolescent, and only since Elena joined their family all those years ago had he mellowed out. Kol would be the first to admit how much of a monster he had been for over a thousand years, but his heart had changed, and Elijah believed he was now truly capable of loving a woman. Which was why he was so curious about Kol's potential feelings for the Bennett witch – and whether or not the feelings were, or ever could be, returned.

It remained to be seen.

He craned his neck to see what Bonnie had pulled out of the box. She ran her hands lovingly over the brown leather cover of a thick book, touching its spine with a caress. Even from a distance he could tell what it was: a grimoire. An ancient grimoire, by the looks of it.

"Where did you get this?" she asked quietly, looking pointedly at Kol.

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you're implying," he snorted, taking a swig of his drink. "It belonged to a witch I knew in Guatemala in the thirteenth century, back when the Mayans were still at large." He leaned over to where she sat, flipping the cover open. "The language is tricky and mostly lost, but I translated what I could, here in the margins…" He ran his hand down the side of the page. "Into English and Latin. Years after I inherited it I gave it to a warlock who added some things to the back, which are in Spanish and therefore much more clearly translated. Excuse my horrendous handwriting – I tried to make it legible," he joked.

Kol spoke about it so lightheartedly, like it was nothing, but the gravity of the gift and the serious thought he'd put into it left everybody in the room speechless. Bonnie was stunned, clearly at a loss for how to react.

Kol cleared his throat nervously. "There's more – look in the bottom of the box."

Bonnie eagerly reached back into the box, pulling out another book. This one was brand new, bound in shiny black leather and secured with a buckled strap. The edges of the cover were embossed with detailed patterns, the grooves highlighted with shimmering silver paint, and the borders of the crisp white pages were similarly inked. The letters "BSB" were engraved on the spine, flanked on either side by incredibly artistic etched lilies.

"I figured you'd want to start one of your own," he drawled, tapping the cover with his knuckles. "All proper Bennett witches leave a legacy."

She traced her hand over the engraved lilies, shimmering silver in the firelight. "Lilies…"

"Are your favorite flower, I know, darling. I'm not blind, nor am I stupid," he finished, smirking. He went to move away, but she caught his hand in her own. Except for the one time she had slapped him, it was the first time Elijah had seen them make physical contact.

Clearly moved by his incredible show of thoughtfulness, her voice was quiet and hoarse. "Thank you," she said softly, squeezing his fingers. "You know you've made it nearly impossible for me to hate you now, right?"

He shifted to take her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles briefly before releasing it and moving to sit in the remaining armchair.

"Well of course – that was the whole point of my evil plan, darling." She rolled her eyes at his shit-eating grin, but clutched her new grimoire to her chest, unable to keep the pleased expression from her face.

"You are incorrigible. I got something for you as well – just something small," she said lightly. "For not being such a rat bastard over the past month." She and Caroline had been travelling with the Original family for a little over a month, and it had definitely tested Bonnie's patience. "It's not as…_beautifully_ wrapped as yours was," she said in jest, "but it's over there near Jeremy's foot – the little velvet box."

He snatched it before Jeremy even had a chance to give it to him. "Ooh, is it jewelry? You know how much I _love_ jewelry," he said teasingly.

The witch cocked her head. "Of a sort. No pearls but…well, why don't you open it and see?"

Kol flipped the box open and his face morphed from its typical mischievous expression to one of solemn awe. He lifted a large silver locket up from its chain. It was oval-shaped and heavily tarnished with age, glinting dully in the firelight. It was obvious that it held some sort of significance, but Elijah nor any of his siblings had ever seen it before.

Elijah had never heard his brother's voice so shaky, never seen his eyes so serious. "How did you come by this?"

Bonnie shrugged, a secret smile on her face. "I have my ways. I'm a witch, aren't I?"

Kol swallowed, lowering the old piece of jewelry back into its box, absentmindedly tracing his fingers over its shape. The rest of the group waited for some sort of explanation, but none ever came. The peculiar pair simply looked at each other for a beat, their eyes locked together, some sort of understanding passing between them. His only gesture of thanks was a brief and almost imperceptible bow of his head.

Caroline rolled her eyes. "So what is it, exactly?"

Bonnie remained silent. Her expression gave away nothing.

"Just something I'd thought I'd lost," Kol said casually, closing the box but keeping it in his lap. He cleared his throat, back to his normal tireless self. "Alrighty then! Who's next? I know Elena got something in the mail from the Salvatores – and check out the picture of Stefan with his new lady friend!" he said, waggling his eyebrows and holding up the photo of Elena's former boyfriend smiling happily with Morgan. "Or how about Niklaus? I got you something I think you will appreciate." His voice was sly and dripping with mischief, his smirk slow and devious.

Hmm. Now this could be interesting.

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"We have a proposition for you."

Elena grinned, clearly amused by Klaus's words; words she had said to them nearly five years ago. It felt like a lifetime.

"What kind of a proposition?" She said haughtily, her eyes teasing. "What can you possibly have to offer _me?"_

"I wasn't finished," Klaus said, smiling outright. "So for once in your miserable existence, shut up."

Elena laughed in delight, clapping her hands together. The memory of her rude words the day she had come to the Original family rang in her mind. "Alright, alright, I'll bite."

"This is a gift from all of us, Elena," Elijah said gently, pulling a small navy velvet box from his pocket. It was tied with a ribbon. "From our family."

He patted his knee expectantly. Setting aside the framed drawing Jeremy had made her, she stood from her spot near the fire, stretching her stiff limbs and striding over to where her lover sat on the couch. Perching herself on his knee, she pulled the blanket wrapped around her shoulders tighter (a hand-woven work of art from Thailand, one of Klaus's Christmas gifts to her) and looped an arm around his shoulders.

She faked suspicion, glaring around at them teasingly. "A gift from all four of you? Now you're just making me nervous."

"Just open it already, Elena!" Rebekah barked impatiently. Elena watched in amusement as the blonde vampire instinctively reached down and stole a sip of Matt's drink. He didn't seem to mind.

She took the little box into her hand and when she opened it, she gasped.

"I assumed I had left it in Greece," she murmured, sliding her mother's ring onto her ring finger. Where there had been an empty bracket for seven years was now a stone – a glittering round-cut emerald that shone vivid green in the firelight. "I didn't think anything of it."

Elijah ran a finger over it. "I hope it wasn't too presumptuous of me."

"No," she exclaimed, still enamored of its beauty. "It's perfect. I think I've been ready for a while, I was just scared." She kissed him gently on the forehead. "Thank you, Elijah."

"Yes, well, it's more than that," Kol said impatiently. "We…tweaked it a bit. Well, Bunny did." He ignored the squeak of protest that came from the witch at the use of his favorite pet name for her.

She cocked her head. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"We asked Miss Bennett to spell it for us," Klaus drawled, obviously pleased that she liked it. "It's your new daylight ring, love."

"We know our agreement initially agreed upon us either turning you or killing you for good once the five years were up," Rebekah said, "but we decided that losing you just wasn't an option."

"Yes, I was out-voted," Kol joked, and Elena chucked the ring box at him, satisfied when it bounced off his nose. "Ouch! Kidding!"

"I can't believe you even entertained the thought of just _dying,"_ Jeremy complained sullenly, glaring at his sister. "Not cool, Elena."

"So you see, love, you really don't have a choice." Klaus smirked at her.

"None," Caroline seconded, biting into a scone.

"And don't bother arguing," Matt added, folding his hands together. "Your obnoxious stubbornness won't work on us."

Elena frowned. Elijah interrupted her before she could speak. "Which brings us to our proposition."

"Alright," Elena grumbled, toying with the sleeve of his t-shirt. "Let's hear it."

"We want to turn you," he continued, tightening his arm around her waist. "All of us."

She met his eyes, stunned, before looking at each of them in turn. "Is that even possible?"

"It'll be like…a blood cocktail," Caroline said cheerily. "It'll be a mixture of all of us. And," she continued, fishing around in her robe pocket, "Stefan and Damon sent these per our request." She held up two little vials of blood. "Every vampire you care about will donate some of their blood to turn you."

"Besides loving you, there is a logical reason behind our proposal," Rebekah said. "There is a method to our madness. With all of us contributing blood, it will prevent you from becoming sired to anyone. You have strong feelings for all of us, and we don't want you to have to deal with the sire bond. As much as any of us would try, it is hard not to take advantage of such a strong instinctive connection. This will cancel out any potential for it."

Elena's head was swimming. "Okay," she said with only a moment's hesitation. "That sounds…good. I guess I've never really thought much about it. I always just assumed Elijah would be the one to turn me." She stroked her fingers through his hair out of habit.

"That could be a disaster," Elijah murmured, smirking. "As much as I would love having you at my beck and call, conceding to my every whim…" His tone was teasing, and he thumbed the skin exposed at her hip where her shirt rode up. "The feelings are too strong, Elena. It's too much of a risk."

She shivered under his touch. Even after almost five years, her body reacted the same. She could not be in the same room with him without imagining how she was going to get him naked later, and he could not look at her without eye-fucking her. The sex was just as intense now as it had ever been. A couple of years ago Elijah had whispered something about it being magnified by a hundred when you were a vampire, and the thought had nagged at the back of her mind since then. She couldn't imagine the sweet torture he would put her through after her transformation. If being with him would be a hundred times better than it was now, she was afraid she would explode.

"Alright then," she said nervously, "I guess it's settled. Should we, uh…should we decide on a date?"

Rebekah piped up immediately. "How about March 21st?" she asked. She threw the doppelganger a sly wink. "Seems as good a day as any, wouldn't you agree, Elena?"

Elena beamed at her. "You bet."

00000000

After watching the witch curiously for a moment, Kol went to stand beside her at the sink, wordlessly picking up a dishcloth and drying the dishes she washed. She gave him a shy smile.

"Hey."

"Hey." He cleared his throat. Finding his courage, he took the pot she was washing from her hands, setting it down in the sink and stilling her movements. He took one of her soapy hands in his own, and this time he did not let go.

"I'm not good at thanking people," he began slowly, speaking with purpose. "I've never learned how to show gratitude properly; my arrogance has never allowed it." He paused. "I don't know how you found out about Amelia's locket and its importance to me. And I don't think you're ever going to tell me, are you?"

She shook her head silently.

He nodded in understanding, stroking his thumb across her knuckles and not realizing he'd done it until he heard her heart flutter rapidly. He couldn't say why, but the sound pleased him.

"It doesn't matter. The fact that you went through the trouble to find it, for me of all people…" He trailed off, not entirely sure how to proceed; he hadn't talked to anyone like this in centuries. "I'm not the most loving of people, nor do I have the greatest set of morals. And I know I'm not easy to read, and that you find me difficult." She snorted in amusement at his observation, and he smiled wryly. "But you must know…your gift was the most meaningful gesture I have ever received…from anyone. Ever. And my gratitude is boundless. Despite how much I annoy you, I hope you will take my words to heart and understand that I mean them." He cleared his throat nervously. "I cannot express just how grateful I am – for your thoughtfulness and sensitivity towards me, when you owe me nothing.

"You are a very special person, Bonnie Bennett. Don't forget it."

She twisted her hand in his and squeezed his fingers, her touch lingering, before she silently finished washing the pot and handed it to him without a word. They continued to wash the dishes like this in comfortable silence, until she spoke, her words quiet and simple but full of meaning and unspoken feelings. Somewhere, unbeknownst to anyone, something unusual shifted and was put into motion; a ball started rolling, and its momentum would never be stopped.

"You're welcome."

00000000

Elena stared out the window, fiddling with the hem of her nightgown, barely covered by the silk robe she wore. She watched as the snow piled up outside. They were officially snowed in; the weather channel announced that there was already over a foot on the ground, and it was just going to keep falling steadily over the next 24 hours. Luckily Bonnie wasn't set to return home for another week, but Jeremy and Matt would miss their flight home tomorrow, ensuring that her younger brother would miss the first couple of days of his fourth semester in college (he'd gotten into UVA on an impressive art scholarship – she was so proud; her parents would have been, too).

Caroline had announced at dinner that she was staying indefinitely. They had all merely smiled at her – she said that almost every time she came to visit, ending up staying for months at a time. Somewhere along the way she had made a habit of sleeping in Klaus's room, and a few months ago Elena had caught the blonde stocking Klaus's closet in Mykonos with some of her clothes.

"I was wondering where you'd gotten off to."

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind, a hard body pressing against her back. She sighed as her hair was nudged aside and soft lips skimmed across her shoulder.

"I like it in here," she said simply in reference to Klaus's personal study and library, her hands covering his. "I was in here to pick out a new book, and got distracted."

She stiffened as Elijah loosened the knot of her robe and his teeth pulled down the strap of the lavender satin nightgown he'd given her for her birthday last June. He nipped at her skin with blunt teeth, his hands sliding up her torso over the silky fabric.

"Elijah we can't," she protested, pulling at his arms. "Not here. If Nik were to walk in he would have a fit." She whimpered as his hand palmed her breast through the thin material.

"Niklaus is otherwise occupied," he purred seductively, his other hand traveling ever so slowly downwards. She was helpless to stop him. "He asked Caroline to marry him…for the third time."

"And?" she said curiously, desire burning low in her belly. "What did she say this time around?"

"No, of course," the vampire replied amusedly, fingering the lace-trimmed hem of her slip. His knuckles caressed the skin of her thigh. He was teasing her. "So naturally, she is trying to convince him that her answer has nothing to do with how much she loves him, and he is doing everything in his power to get her to change her mind. If you had my sense of hearing you would know that they are completely wrapped up in each other. Believe me," he said, spinning her around to face him. "So nothing is keeping me from doing this. I've been itching to get my hands on you since this morning."

She gasped as his hand slipped underneath her nightgown, tracing the waistband of her panties, dipping inside briefly only to pull back out again to caress the skin of her stomach.

"He'll know," she breathed, pushing half-heartedly on his chest but reluctant to stop him. "He always knows. He'll kill you."

He worried her nipple with his teeth through the satin slip that still covered her breasts, drawing it to a stiff peak. The rasp of his thumb through the fabric over her other nipple was a delicious friction that had her panting in lust.

"It's nothing I haven't experienced before, darling," the Original murmured against her breast. She moaned as he cupped her mound through her panties, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit. "You know you want to. You're already soaking wet for me, Elena. Your body doesn't lie."

"Yes," she admitted, gasping and arching into his hands.

He chuckled darkly, nipping at her collarbone. "I always knew you had a voyeuristic side…"

She bit her lip in anticipation as his hand slipped into her underwear. He kissed her and coaxed her lips open with his tongue as his thumbnail scraped lightly over her clit. She whined softly in response, clutching at his shoulders as he worked two fingers into her tight sheath, preparing her for his thick length.

Whimpering as he pleasured her, hitting all the spots that had her arousal building into a raging inferno, she grasped the impressive bulge against her hip in her small hand, rubbing it until it strained at the cotton material of his sweatpants. He grunted when her hand ducked beneath the waistband, gripping the bare flesh of his penis and swiping her thumb over its weeping tip. He bucked his hips and sighed against her mouth, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth.

Impatiently she pulled his hands from her body and dropped to her knees in front of him, tugging his pants down as she went. He did not often let her please him in this way – he was a giving and unselfish lover, and was always focused on her pleasure before his own – but this time he did not protest, threading his fingers through her hair and gently guiding her head as she licked her lips and took him into her mouth.

Elena loved seeing him like this: his jaw clenched with tension and his eyes trained hotly on her, his deep brown orbs glazing over with pleasure. Over the years they had been together he had let her see more and more of him as time went on, but he wasn't often vulnerable as he was in these moments. It pleased her to know that she could effectively tear down the walls of control he had carefully constructed over a thousand years of living.

He pulled her away from where she was swirling her tongue skillfully around the head of his cock, ignoring her protests as he lifted her up underneath her arms and set her down on his brother's desk in an easy show of strength. He pulled off his shirt, baring his muscular torso to her hungry gaze, and lowered her down to lay flat on her back, sliding her panties down her legs in one smooth motion and rubbing his hand over her sex to spread her fluids down her slit. She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him closer to her, and used her hand to guide him to her opening.

Holding her thighs in his large hands, he worked his way inside, sliding into her wet pussy inch by glorious inch. She let out a low prolonged moan, throwing her head back to thunk against the table. Vaguely she noticed what felt suspiciously like a stapler nudge her shoulder, but the tingling sensation coursing wildly through her body was too distracting for her to dwell on it.

They were fucking…on his brother's desk. She wanted to laugh in delight; the indecency of it all made it that much hotter. And hot _damn,_ he was sexy. Arching her back, she pushed her hips up to meet his movement, and he slid the last fraction into her snug channel, lodging himself deep inside her. They both paused for a moment, shuddering simultaneously and relishing in the feeling of absolute completeness. Their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle, tangled in a familiar dance that they never tired of – and there was an unspoken understanding that they never _would_ tire of it.

"This never gets old," she gasped as he began to move within her, slowly at first; but his patience was wearing too thin by now, and he picked up the pace within seconds, unable to control himself.

"I was hoping you would say that," he breathed, leaning down to lave at the spot between her breasts. "Which brings me to a proposition I have for you – concerning just the two of us."

"Well, now would be a good time to ask – I don't think I could refuse you anything at this moment. Which I'm sure was planned intentionally on your part." She laughed, but it quickly turned into a strangled moan as he leaned back between her thighs and brought her legs to his shoulders, changing the angle to the one he knew she liked best.

He lurched against her hips, the depth of his thrusts almost more than she could handle; his cock nudged against her womb with every plunge. "You know me too well," he joked. His voice was light but she could hear the strain underneath. She squeezed her core around him, smirking when he hissed in surprise.

"So what's this proposition of yours?" she asked breathily, clutching at the edge of the desk in a desperate attempt to ground herself in the face of such searing pleasure.

He ran his hands up her legs to caress her ankles, his strokes slowing and turning languid. His eyes were tender and full of longing. There was something vulnerable in his gaze, his soul shining through and bare for her to see.

"Stay," he whispered, his voice gentle and hoarse.

She snorted and looked at him strangely, and his brow furrowed in confusion. She clarified before he could get the wrong idea.

"Um, _duh."_

"Duh?" He cocked his head, pausing momentarily as he forgot to move his hips.

She wriggled underneath him, unhappy that he'd stopped. He groaned and resumed his torturously slow pace.

"I figured it was a given by now. I assumed my intentions were clear. I didn't think you'd have to ask," she replied.

He frowned. "This is your life we're talking about here, Elena. You are your own person. You are not under any obligation to me or my family –"

She laughed outright, her head tilting back and her eyes closing. "Obligation? Elijah, has it ever occurred to you that I might just be in _love_ with you?"

He stiffened. "It's occurred to me, I just didn't want you to have to –"

She cut him off again. "Shut up."

He gripped her ankles tightly and slammed into her particularly hard. His jaw was clenched and his expression was something akin to a sneer.

Good. She wanted him to feel. She needed him to react, to show the emotion that she so rarely received from him. Anger was a start.

"_Shut up?"_ he repeated incredulously, his tone dangerous. His pace increased, his cock pushing in and out of her tight cunt frantically. She moaned under the onslaught. There it was: his passion had reared its head.

"Yes," she answered, her word punctuated by a sharp gasp and a buck of her hips. "As in: thank you for thinking of me as an independent woman with choices, but there has only ever been one choice in my heart. I love you, Elijah, and I love this family, and it never occurred to me to be anywhere else but with you. For as long as you will have me; five years, fifty years, five hundred years."

His face had relaxed, but his eyes were still troubled, shining with rare insecurity. "How about a thousand?"

She smiled up at him. "That sounds like a – oh! – a reasonable amount of time," she answered, her voice strained as she felt the familiar coil of her orgasm wind tightly around her womb. "I might get bored with you by then, though," she teased, her eyes glinting mischievously.

"Like hell you will," he growled angrily, baring his teeth threateningly. He started to pound into her in earnest, hammering his cock into her wetness with depth and speed that had her keening loudly, uncaring of who heard her. The desk was scooting back with each powerful thrust, wrinkling the Persian rug beneath it. Her head thrashed from side to side, her lips parted as she panted heavily for air. When she regained use of her lungs and came in a burst of mindless pleasure, she screamed his name without abandon, gripping his neck tightly between her calves.

"Fuck, Elena!"

She watched him through blurry eyes as he came, his head thrown back and the cords in his neck taut. His pectoral muscles jumped and his wide hands squeezed her thighs sporadically as he found his release inside her, pumping in and out of her like his life depended on it.

He was _beautiful._ And he was all hers.

"You'll stay with me?" he asked roughly, his eyes wild with pleasure, boring into hers intensely.

"Always and forever," she replied without hesitation.

His hips finally stilled as he finished, and they came down from the highs of their orgasms together, breathing hard.

"Christ, Elena," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I can't breathe when I look at you. I can't think. You're everywhere – you've taken over my heart, my mind, my body. Everything I have to offer: it's yours. _I'm _yours. Somehow you managed to ruin me and save me at the same time, and I…" He swallowed. "I've never said it out loud, but I do love you, Elena. I _love_ you."

She swung her legs down and sat up to press her torso to his. She brushed her mouth over his lower lip in a butterfly kiss. His eyelids fluttered closed, and he held her tightly against his body.

"And I love you." She wrapped her arms around his neck. She paused for a moment, letting her declaration of love sink in, before speaking again, her voice low and teasing. "So how many ways do you think we can manage to desecrate Klaus's desk before he storms down here to kill us?"

He gave her a sly smirk, enjoying her thought process, pressing his chest to hers and running his hands down her back to squeeze her ass. "Oh I can think of a few…" he murmured sensuously against her jaw; his new hard-on prodded relentlessly at her thigh. "Why don't you turn around and bend over, and we'll find out?"

_**Fin**_


End file.
